 |
The Madonna and Child |
Mother woke me late one night
and told me to step outside.
Above my head, a silver crescent
casting off thick streams of moonlight.
She pulled from behind the house,
a small boat and a little oar;
inside was tucked a woven basket
filled with food she'd prepared before.
I climbed inside the wooden boat
as she pointed us toward the sky,
and we set sail for the twinkling stars
on a river of glowing light.
Mother grabbed the little oar,
splashed it in the glowing stream,
and toward the sharp-edged moon we flew,
to Her meteor-speckled shore -
and we stepped down on the moon,
with basket and blanket in hand,
and laid us down a little feast
upon the silver sand.
Mother made hot cocoa
and cookies and tea cakes,
topped with the heart-shaped designs
and red candies that she often makes.
She pointed out to me,
our home far down below
and told me her well kept secret,
of the magic, hidden window.
As I munched upon the sweets
and sipped my chocolate drink,
Mother turned to me, catching starlight
in her eyes, and whispered:
"When you are feeling down, my dear,
when the world seems dim and grey,
go through that crystal window
and you'll return to this holy place.
Then look above the cloudy skies
which below seem so forlorn,
and see the Earth's true beauty,
the paradise where you were born."
