Mother

Like Sarai, I know
you must have laughed,
full of joy and wonder at
the forthcoming of my birth.
Nine long months you cradled me,
shielded me in your womb,
sang soft praises,
schooling me of the Master.

Then like Hannah,
you held me before God,
promising to raise me in
His service and you did.
You planted His word in my heart
cultivating my soil, growing me
as Lois and Eunice must have tended
to a young Timothy.

Many times you chose the greater part.
You, my very own Mary; studious,
ever leaning on the Master's breast,
and I watched, I listened.
I saw things you never knew.

I loved you first, even as I
was formed in your beautiful belly.
I knew your voice before
you ever heard mine,
and even then I knew
that I was blessed to be
loved by a virtuous women
that excels them all.