Inheritor of the light
into myriad directions, misdirection
and what really was is not real
but over analyzed.
Mary there with sun in her eyes, smiles
never unlocked but keeping Man busy
She carries the light; she owns it; she shares it
but can we hear?
The twisted logic of academics
keeps the colors swirling and laughing
as the secrets of Him the Christ
Mary is there behind and before
The Rose, the new direction of an old story
the womb, the inheritance
And the tears in her eyes as she looks at the blood
dripping from thorns to her hair
Are they tears of joy?