Mary Goes to Jesus

Moving voices all around you are trying to say that
He will never make it up the first step.
And you know that they might be right.
You’ve been up that road before
Each rock and stone you can name
They have all cut your feet and worn you down
As you trod the path so long ago
And now they must cut him and bruise him
And he must bear it alone.

Why won’t they let him live?
He is only a child, he is only your boy.

His troubles smite his face and force him to the ground
Blood a color that shames the rose runs down his skin
His screams blow down the corridors of your heart
And all of your doors and windows fly open
Open now to everything you never wanted to see him go through
In his eyes, he is swallowing emotion
He is tired
The world is daring him to go on
His burdens are dragged and splintered into his back
As he carries them silently and alone
Up the road.

And now you run to him
Because you cannot stand this pain and trembling agony
Your heart has become swollen from watching him suffer
Why can you not take him in your arms and cradle him tenderly
Save him from darkness, protect him from the powers of the world
That want to destroy him and take him away from you
You wade through the ocean of bodies
These people that love to see a hero fall
You want to see him rise
But you cannot help him, you are only allowed watch him
And this restraint is the greatest suffering of all
It causes your heart to tear and rip itself, dying and breaking
A great shoving forward that goes unpushed, the desire unmet
The contained pain you feel claws at the wallpaper in your heart
Because it can only escape if but for a moment.
These tears that are dashing down your face, never ending,
They will not protect him, they will not help him,
They will not save him.
He must face the road alone, and you can only watch him.

Watch over your child. Tell him that you are near.
Love him as you tenderly whisper, “I am here.”




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I had to write this as a request/school assignment for Mother's Day. If one disregards the title, perhaps if they are a mother then they will identify with the poem. I'm never gonna be a mother, but I would venture to guess that it's possible every mother in the world will one day reach a point where they must watch helplessly from the sidelines as their child grows up and suffers life alone.
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