After the first few years,
The angels took a break.
The birth announced,
The shepherds roused,
The kings and Joseph warned,
Gabriel put up his feathers and his feet,
Resumed his normal duties.
They let the parents cope
With sleepless nights,
Teething and tantrums,
First words, first groggy steps.
First lessons and first loves.
They spoke, but in the usual ways:
Whispering at night or dawn,
Beneath the clatter of the day;
Out of the mouth of friends and teachers;
Trusting the family to hear
Without the fanfare
Of beating wings.
And their child grew
In strength and wisdom,
There were days she quite forgot
The angels and the kings, dreamed of grandchildren,
Found carpentry a destiny
Fit for the son of man.
So when the moment came
For Mary to say ‘yes’ again,
To let her baby go
Out on the road which led to death –
The choice was just as hard,
And just as clear,
As when the angel,
Scattering sparks and feathers,
First told her not to fear.
A poem by Mary Lean, Oxford, 2018
