Station Four (Jesus Meets His Holy Mother)

At first her hands went up to shield her eyes.

Her sharp gasp cut her heart. She could not look

into that face: the purple weltered stains

beneath the skin; the torn lips black with dirt

and blood, the lips that as a child kissed

her cheek; those eyes! Behind the swollen lids

those clear, warm eyes she loved denied the tortured

face and drew her through the crowd until

her hands reached out, her fingers stretched and ached

to touch, caress, that face. Amid the din

surrounding them, a grace of silence filled

their distant gaze. The torn lips smiled sadly

at her as He turned away. A grey

shape roughly shoved her back into the crowd.

C. DAHLÉN*

* C. Dahlén worships at All Saints Episcopal Church in Appleton, Wisconsin.

Copyright Anglican Theological Review, Inc. Winter 2006
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