wordsout by godfrey rust
words from the cross  < 3 of 7 >



son

Woman, as I prepare
     to slip the leash of time
for a moment your grief
     reels me back in; the sword
pierces us both
     but you alone will feel then
the pain I feel now,
     watching a mother
watch a son die. Before
     you gave birth to me
I AM, and at a word
     I made time flow
like tears: but what
     could I in my eternity
know of such a loss as yours? Timeless
     I became humankind—
there was no other way
     to learn the meaning  
of this moment. Soon
    I will have gained
eternity again; you have
    the meantime, and I will
not leave you comfortless.
    Beside you is one
whom I have loved
    more than a brother:
Dear woman, here is your son.
   Son, here is your mother.


Third poem of seven in the sequence words from the cross.  

Godfrey Rust 2003, godfrey@wordsout.co.uk. See here for permissions.