Not Mary

Not Mary

                                                                          Our Lady of Winter ~ Philip Brent Harris

~~~~~

Not Mary, knew she didn’t understand, had never understood,
As a small girl rolling down a hill,
As an old woman rolled into the hall,
Why she had been born
Into the wrong time, far too soon.
She had always tried incredibly hard to be especially good.

The nightingale sings down the night
And the lark sings up the day.
Add their sweet songs to our world
In their own unique way.

Not Mary listened to the notes that sounded the world,
Though her ears always felt
At least a step behind.
It left her puzzled, searching
Both high, low and in-between
Unsure what it was that she hoped to find.

Until she met a handsome man, who drove it all away
He became her sun, moon and stars,
Solidified the firmament
On which she walked and filled
The empty places when she talked,
Even when she knew he had little or nothing to say.

The nightingale sings down the night
And the lark sings up the day.
Add their sweet songs to our world
In their own unique way.

He was her knight, on a white steed, in shining armor, her prince,
Though he labored his whole life.
Put food upon their table, a roof over their head.
And children came apace,
While the world with troubles rife,
She always, only saw him in the present tense.

For a time, days of distance drove a mighty wedge between.
And though he split her heart in two,
He could not end her love.
When she cried herself to sleep at night,
Each dawn awakened with possibility anew.
She fought to cling onto her rock, though he remained unseen.

Absence may make the heart grow fonder; distance may
Find a way for love to forget.
For a time or for always.
Proximity, sometimes, more than matters.
Can determine how two people fit.
Yet, life may not deign to listen to a single word we say.

Still, she screamed into the void, as all are, sometimes. wont to do.
She listened hard, heard an answer,
Or an echo; not Mary could not be sure.
In her heart she sang her hope, her love.
Would you do the same if this happened to you?

The nightingale sings down the night
And the lark sings up the day.
Each to their time, as is right
Our we alone in our need to stray?

Through love, pain and hurt, she bent the world to her will.
So that, in time, her warrior,
Traveled far and crested a distant hill
Returning from out of the sunset.
His armor dull and tarnished, his halo askew.
They stayed together after, until both were gone. Are they together still?

~~~~~

Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength, Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment

~~~~~

Please, leave a comment and let me know what you think.

See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:

Brent Harris Fine Art

Philip Brent Digital Art

Vida Voices

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: