EPIC

   I

So she grew
In the normalcy of
The womb,
Cell by cell bifurcating
In nature and God's way,
The identical cells differentiating
To be seed of the growing organs.

What futures were possible
She did not know; what melding
Of human potential:
Peasant or poet,
Shepherd and soldier,
Tramp, priest,
Princess.

Clung to the womb-wall, nearest
To Eden -
The serpent is at her! No
Subtlety of seduction, like Eve,
But the bitter chemical assault.

That bitter tide
Strives to detach her
From the womb-wall;
Blood that fed her
Becomes her enemy:
Will she hold?

Seaweed clings to the rock,

Depends on the rock
As the tide
Drives it.  Fronds
Swill in eddies, retreat,
Advance;
Hold.

She held.

Through her tenacity,
Through grace of God,
Our heroine held.

For was that womb her

Beginning?  Before time was
She had been the choice of
One she would come to know as
Father: and chosen in Christ.

What bitter chemicals had

Assaulted her? The alembic had held
A father's anger and selfishness,
Pinches of pride and desperation:
A large dose of female weakness.
 
So her birth delivered her to the care
Of a weak mother and selfish father
As a failed reject in the world
That rejected the Son of God.




Do I go on? Or is this already too much?