For the Love of Judith
Judith must be punished for her unborn sins,
and haunted by her unborn fears.
She will beg her powerless mother for that
which the Sun and the Moon cannot give.
A trusting child tells with a momentary stare,
that she cannot wait to live,
Yet she cries and bleeds, pure and aware,
as the ghost of a dying God appears.
The smoke and fog of joy, on the barren hills
of promise fade away to reveal,
A clearing where a Mother and Daughter can
find truth in this awkward chastity.
The young women wearing colourful masks of
bliss and happiness have come to heal,
While the dark and jealous crones paint black
portraits of pain and lay beds of misery.
Their betraying love is not real but mere glass,
that by hand has the face of a jewel.
Their offering of hope and trust mean nothing
as they nail Judith’s hands to the stake.
The black vultures of torment, circle,
as the faithful put fires to the fuel.
And her mother’s screaming and lone cries
of anguish, leave none innocent in their wake.
Yet her tortured Mother who gave Judith her life,
smiles exquisitely, as they start.
Together they begin their secret flight, that
lifts them high above this tragedy,
As love and hatred both rip and tear,
at the soul like arrows into a dead heart.
In this painful and mysterious world,
there is no greater form of alchemy,
Than the acceptance of clear blue eyes,
the disarming smile of the condemned in fear,
And the tender sounds of assent,
that are being whispered too soft for some to hear.
Judith will be born tonight , leaden hearts will be golden and doubt will
Copyright © David Wakeling | Year Posted 2018