Mary's Song


Out of Egypt
with its pearls and honey,
out of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,
out of the God I AM,
out of the diseased snakes,
out of the droppings of flies,

out of the sand dry as paper,
out of the deaf blackness,
I come here to give birth.

Write these words down.
Keep them on the tablet of miracles.
Withdraw from fine linen and goat's hair
and be prepared to anoint yourself with oil.
My time has come.
There are twenty people in my belly,
there is a magnitude of wings,
there are forty eyes shooting like arrows,
and they will all be born.
All be born in the yellow wind.

I will give suck to all
but they will go hungry,
they will go forth into suffering.
I will fondle each
but it will come to nothing.
They will not nest
for they are the Christs
and each will wave good-bye.