So Little Known of Mary's Man

So little known of Mary's man, Only that he was righteous, just. Betrothal gone afoul of plan, He sought divorce, discrete, no fuss. Did you have doubts of your betrothed, A fleeting thought to cause some harm, As you imagined her unclothed, Tight in another man's strong arms? And as the child in her womb grew, As whispers, furtive glances came, Were dreams by angels given you Enough to overcome the shame? When she was racked with labor pains, With no rooms left, were you still able To Mary joyfully proclaim The Lord’s provision in a stable? When came the pilgrims from the East, Brought gold and frankincense and myrrh, Did you see these for king and priest, Or gifts to which you'd grow inured? When called to Egypt in the night, Just out of reach from Herod's clutch, Did you in midst of desert flight, Feel vulnerable or panic much? Or were there times in playful fun, Just you, your wife, your baby child, See him as Christ, the Holy One Through whom God's children reconciled? With hammer, nails, at early age, A carpenter, this child you taught. Did it, in wildest dreams, presage The means by which he ransom bought? When you in haste to temple went, And he told you in your distress, "My Father's house,” where he'd be found, Did his response provide redress? And after, what became of you? Some have suggested that you died An early death, perhaps best too, For who could watch son crucified? Though Scripture does not much record, The part you played was shortly done, One can imagine your reward: Eternity with God the Son.