She stares at me
A trace of sadness in her eyes
The baby’s cheek
Next to hers
His warmth matching her warmth
His baby scent mingling with hers.

Her nose is long with a soft tip
And the baby’s matches
in miniature
Their lineage clear
Making it no question
Who belongs to whom.

And yet the baby looks at his mother
With wisdom
His dark eyes matching hers
In sensitivity
And a tiny hand caresses her cheek
As if to bring comfort

Which begs the question
Who is nurturing whom?
The mother’s head leaning close
As if she receives strength
Rather than gives it.

And she looks directly at me
Those sad eyes delving deep
Their lids ringed in brown
Underneath sculpted brows
And I know
She knows pain.

And her mouth
A mouth
With words unspoken
Screams in its silence
Her questions so clear:
Why me? Why him? Why us?

And yet, she knows
And he knows, too
If not you
If not me
If not us
Then who?

Will feel the pain
To shift perspective
From suffering
From death
From now
To eternity?

Her eyes follow me
And I feel
The love that she sends
And I know
Mother Mary                                                                                                                                                                                                      Cradles me in her arms.