Station Four (Jesus Meets His Holy Mother)
At first her hands went up to shield her eyes.
Her sharp gasp cut her heart. She could not look
into that face: the purple weltered stains
beneath the skin; the torn lips black with dirt
and blood, the lips that as a child kissed
her cheek; those eyes! Behind the swollen lids
those clear, warm eyes she loved denied the tortured
face and drew her through the crowd until
her hands reached out, her fingers stretched and ached
to touch, caress, that face. Amid the din
surrounding them, a grace of silence filled
their distant gaze. The torn lips smiled sadly
at her as He turned away. A grey
shape roughly shoved her back into the crowd.
* C. Dahlén worships at All Saints Episcopal Church in Appleton, Wisconsin.
Copyright Anglican Theological Review, Inc. Winter 2006
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