"They have no wine," says Mary to her Son A catalyst of miracles to be And thus, the work of Jesus is begun Through four small words expressed expectantly
And now a statued symbol, clothed in white Few people know her words who know her name Who brought into the world one silent night The Word of God, Lord Jesus, both the same
She spoke to him the way a mother does But will she speak to us? To you or me? Can anyone become what Jesus was? What words might open our divinity?
We search for words to show us we're divine Again she whispers this: "They have no wine."
This entry was posted on Friday, August 16th, 2024 at 6:46 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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