Ode To Mary - Poem by Alf Hutchison
Tired Mary, mouth so parched,
To Bethlehem you had marched,
Husband Joseph by your side,
Attending well his blessed bride.
How felt you Mary, on that day,
Shepherds leaving sheep to stray,
Angels flying to and fro,
The bleat of goat, a cattle’s low;
The Son of God lay in a manger,
Safely stored from mortal danger,
What thought you Mary on that night,
Seeing that new star so bright.
You must have known it was for Him,
That God’s star shone over Bethlehem,
A town so small without innkeeper,
No hotels, Inns or nightly sleeper.
Did troglodyte relatives welcome you,
Into their rock hewn homes so few,
Had other guests arrived therein,
Filling the front room called “The inn”
Mary, they gave you pride of place,
At the rear with animals was your space,
Warm and safe from the cold night air,
In that coziest spot, you laid Him there.
The Son of God, our Prince of Peace,
Lamb of God laid on white fleece,
Wrapped in cloth of white swaddling,
Our Lord of lords and Priestly King.
You were with Him Mary, at His birth,
Nurturing Him, all His days on earth,
Witnessing His first and final breath.
So blessed were you…even unto His death.
....even His death upon a cross.
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