ELIZABETH, THE MOTHER OF JOHN
(Inspired by the book of Luke chapter 1)
Along with all the world she stands pregnant.
Beneath her heart beats the tiny one of the messenger.
This old woman once belittled by the townsfolk,
A raisin dried in the desert sun,
Now stretching and blooming with life,
Elizabeth holds her noble head erect and proud
Knowing she bears a holy burden
A voice cries out and the babe once still,
So small that only a few have noticed the swelling,
Leaps for joy!
All four limbs stretch
To their full length in the first steps
Of a dance begun by the angels
Deep within the womb
Of his mother.
The eyes of the women meet,
Filling the distance with shared wonder
As they cross the sands to meet face to face.