Mary’s daughter is born in a manger, 

a perfect, white lamb,

taking delicate, precious breaths,

under a blood-pink pelt. 

Sacrifice is the language of mothers and daughters. 

We know this because 

as Mary’s womb spun blood and flesh to make the lamb,

her God spun iron and silver to make the knife. 

Born together, 

a prophetic pair,

the twins are whispering to each other,

if you listen close…

A bubbling scarlet giggle, 

answers a sharp, caressing question.

The only answer, 

to the only question.

An intuitive conversation,

as fated as an echo. 

But Mary doesn't hear it,

over the sound of a quiet heartbeat. 

God's gift to Mary 

is a knife. 

A mothers gift to a lamb

is forgiveness.

She is no child of God,

but as she licks Mary’s fingers, 

she is loved with the same divine unconditionality, 

and she loves with the same reverent devotion. 

“Perhaps,” Mary whispers to her lamb, 

“we can do better than God and His knives,”

”if I hold you close enough,

kiss you often enough,

you will grow up,

and never know that lambs

are only a gift 

when they die.”

And God cannot understand Mary,

because His is the language of sacrifice, 

and the language 

of mothers and daughters,

is love

Featured in the Lovey Love publication by the Concordia Fine Arts Reading Room