Madonna On The Amtrak Poem by Lynn W. Petty

Taking my seat, I noticed across from me a young
Mother with her child.
The soft-shawl like waves of her long brown hair
Delicately framed her face as it swept over her ears,
Spilling onto the plateau of her shoulders,
Streaming down her neck, ending like a gentle waterfall
Blown to a mist by the wind.
The serenity of her countenance was stirring.
Lost in heavenly musing, she gazed with adoration
Into the face of her sleeping boy.
Through the windows, prismed ribbons of light
Were cast upon her features, accentuating her quietude.
Mysterious, tender, quiet, deep.
A subtle vapor of something divine enveloped them.
I sat silently, listening to the murmuring sounds of a mother
As she nestled her son in the cradle of her arms.
A peaceful touch was laid upon my soul.
Held in a timeless still, I saw a living picture
As old as the genesis of life.
If one had reason for doubt or despair
It would have vanished, dissolved
Within the illumination of life,
Love and joy.