Once there was an angel

all strong and fierce and bright

who lighted by my husband’s bed

before we were wed..

in the middle of the night.

This is what the being said,

when my husband had awoken,

because of it’s great light,

like a fire that won’t consume:

“You must love her”….

A message from God

Who loves His children.

He had been paralyzed

until the stately creature left

and warmth slid over him

like a blanket, soft and pure.

When it released him, he was bereft

for: one does not wish to be left

by an angel of God.

But, we were married in the Church

before the Majesty of He

Who sets all free

to love what is right.

For the tears which coursed down

my husband’s face that night

were also due to

the overwhelming love of God.

Four years past..

for children we prayed..

because to love children is right…

but not owed.

So we waited in hope.

And then, five years wed,

we bore the fruit of a child.

God’s love in human form.

Then, in years to come,

five more were born.

Sometimes there are stares

and whispers..

“How can you have so many children?”

They ask, amazed.

I know not.. for they are not like

flowers simply plucked from the field

when we want them, to pretty up our bouquet.

Lovely it is to behold,

but they are planted and rooted

by unseen hands, knit in wonder and awe.

Gifts from above, they are.

The tears which overflow course down

onto little cheeks…

for endless love is present

in the form of a child.

When the strangers whisper and stare,

sometimes they exclaim:

“You’re hands are full!”

I used to bow my head,

for they tried to shame me.

But, with age,

has come grace.

So now I simply reply:

“Yes…full of joy!”

with a smile of sincere

gratitude to the One Who gives.

But, sometimes He takes away..

a sacrifice in this world which

has forgotten love in human form.

We have seven children…

one taken to Heaven by God’s angel,

who had appeared that night.

And there are six born..

but all of them, love in human form..

a verdant field of rooted flowers,

colorful and bright.

For a Saint of Mercy once asked:

“How can there be too many children?

That’s like saying there are too many flowers”.