God Inside You

When the Unmoved Mover moved in you,

Kicked tiny feet against virginal womb,

When you felt first under your very bones,

The presence of God in earthen tones:

What sentiment?

Did you cry for mirth?

Or fumble for word?

As you sensed a limb

Yours not, but yours hid.

“He has shown the strength of his arm!”

You once sang.

But could purest of poet charm

Now be vain?

It’s tempting to think, O Mary,

You foreknew

The moments of Life you carried

Inside you.

But God Made Flesh was still invisible.

In your body had been insensible.

Immaculate Fiats ne’er calculate,

Nor gained for you God’s omniscient state.

Bewilderment.

Mine. At your freedom

To be caught off guard:

Receive, stand in awe

Feeling God act so small.

Wondrous, “Be it done unto me!”

You once said.

Not, “I need to know what will be,”

My oft tread.

So, the kicks and crawls, cries of God,

Your surprise:

His future your future, though not

For your eyes.

Your faith, not your reason, won the grace

Of carrying him close: faithful embrace.

No doubt.

You were the first one to understand

That God can be held with —

No hands.

Astonishment.

Mine.

Next time.

I’m in line.

“Body of Christ.”

“Amen.”

~ Sr. M. Grace Augustine, Carmel D.C.J.