You may have me kneeling with a staff,
my eyes unwaveringly downward on the child,
a portrait of commitment and readiness.
Or I might have my hands on the reins of a donkey,
showing my willingness to journey
to keep mother and child safe.
Or I might be standing to the side,
indicating a supportive but secondary role.
I am hard to properly place.
Wherever you put me is fine.
I know what I have to do.
I am an inheritor of dreams.
My ancient namesake
saved his people from famine
by interpreting in the day
the communications of the night.
I do the same.
My heart stays awake while my body sleeps.
I listen while the sounds of the earth are silent.
The angels of dreams only whisper commands:
“Take Mary for your wife.”
“Take the mother and child and flee.”
“Take the mother and child and return.”
My obedience has taught me
to see through scandal.
What grows in Mary
is the work of the Spirit
–
fragile, vulnerable –
pursued by the sword.
Life needs protection until life is ready to serve.
And I protect.
That is what you need to know about me
and what you need to know about yourself.
Perhaps in your creche
you have a figure of me
with a staff that blossoms,
flowers sprouting from the top
of the long, lean stick.
It tells my truth best.
How do you make your strength serve love?
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