They stood
So quietly and with such air of held
Suspended things, there might have been a flow
Of silence longer than the throbs of time
Can measure or endure; till Joseph spoke
Of haste and roads that still were waiting them
To Nazareth. The hush was gentle then,
And simple words were uttered easily,
And lighting smiles had come to almost hide
The inner shadows moving in their eyes,
But naught of shyness nor the strained defeat
Of ease, nor any cold constraint that cast
A reticence about their older ways.
They were not more aware of Him. No new
Attainment of a reverence had reached
Them that had not been clear, and only now
More certain portents shone within the days,
And she had found another kind of tears.
His words were dreams, and stars, and shepherds’ feet
Again, and swords, and Simeon’s avowal
Brought more near, and in a sudden speech
Made imminent. They had not thought that none
Would fall again. But greater gift was asked
In what she’d heard, and deeper draught of pain.
And she’d been waiting. For the long years now
She had been waiting. Only loneliness
Was new.
‘A Woman Wrapped In Silence’ John W. Lynch
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