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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Religious · #759037
the realities of God borne by Mary in real flesh & blood
Bearing God

He fills me
in so small a way
yet all my body cradles Him
I cannot see
this God-in-Me
I must believe
and wait.

God grows in me
in tiny increments
of blood and bone
I cannot tell
what form He takes
as I am transformed by
His unseen plan.

He molds me
filling out my form
I cannot rush
this God-with-Me
I bear this fruit in season.

Full of God
stretched taut and hard
God-made-Man
crowds out my very self
I feel Him push
and shape me.

Oh!
God grips me
in tight embrace
I gasp as He pushes
against restraining flesh
Come, Lord!
Come!

Recieving Him is agony
and joy
as with each breath He comes
I melt away
as God emerges.

He is all
and I am all
undone.

pencil drawing scanned in black & white instead of grey scale-  looks almost woodcut!
© Copyright 2003 Lobelia is truly blessed (mamahobbit at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/759037