She strides bravely into the wind
Her veil splayed out
Bannerlike behind.
What mission calls you forth
Dear Sister
In this December cold?
What kindness great or small?
Dressed too lightly I think
All in blue
Mary, I suppose
Virgin Immaculate,
Queen of the Universe,
Mother of the masses,
Refuge for the poor.
Frightened girl
Pinned beneath
A hirsute man
Dank with the sweat
of Palestinian fields.
Dear Sister
Can I call you that?
For we share this torn and bleeding earth,
This grieving, messy humanity,
This frozen, fleeting moment.
She pauses as we pass
Smiling, to adjust her veil.
I do not know your God
Dear Sister,
But I would like if I might
To hold your smile
for a time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem