theteenagermag.com does not endorse any of these sites and takes on no liability.
Please evaluate the sites before making donations.
Home
HOME
Mary’s True Peace

Robert Clements

As Christmas draws upon us once more, I remember while visiting a church in Portugal last year I stopped and stared transfixed, shuddered, and as I gazed rooted to my spot, tears flowed freely from my eyes. It was an ancient painting of Mary, mother of Jesus sitting on a rock after the crucifixion, her dead Son lying on her lap. Her eyes looked into the distance, broken, yet, and I do not lie, even in that brokenness there was peace.

'Oh Mary! Mother of Jesus!' I said as I stood in front of her,
And suddenly in the painting, I felt the Mother stir.
'What is it dear child?' she looked at me and said,
'What question is it that I see, rankling in your head?'
'Mary Mother of God,' I whispered out again
There's peace I see in you, despite grief and cruel pain
How can you have such peace, with a Son that's just been slain?'
The tears they freely flowed down my cheeks and right onto the ground
Till I saw her hand stretch out to me without no earthly sound
The other hand on her dead son was ever tightly wound.


'Child,' she said and sad sweet smile, reached out across the years
It made me choke, but I listened despite the whelming tears.
'It was a Christmas long ago, when this dear boy was born
I'd laboured through that lonely night I saw his face at dawn
He was a baby sweet and good like many others be,
But in his face I saw carved out, his complete destiny.
I knew he was the Son of God, that baby in my lap
I marveled at such humility as with hay I did him wrap.
And as I looked at little face, I knew though joy was mine
That lil' babe and death would meet somewhere along the line.


'But,' I said, but she bade me stop with gentle smile on face
A smile that did not disappear, as she looked down at His dead face.
'I watched him on that Christmas day, a babe who made no sound
I watched him and I also watched those creatures all around.
Have you seen dumb animals not moving in a manger?
Standing still, watching Him protecting babe from danger?
Have you heard of night, where light from wondrous star
Brought camels and three wise men from eastern lands afar?
'But,” she said, and tears crept down as she touched her still son's face
'I knew that unlike other men; numbered were his days.'


I wept, I cried as I watched her look down at her still dead son.
I knew that finally at last, cruel death, her son had won.
'Oh no, oh no dear Bob,” she cried and looked at me and said,
'I can see that dismal thoughts are passing through your head.
You look at me with pity, thinking He is dead?
But I know, as seated over here, that it will never be that way.
The babe that in that manger lay, same babe that lies here dead
Will rise again, will roll grave stone; into heaven go ahead.
The peace you see upon my face is the peace I'd have you know
Is because babe who lay in manger will always go before.'


'There's no need for crying, there's no need to weep.
I knew this as I held lil Jesus in my arms so fast asleep!
There's no need for crying, there's no need to weep
I know this as I hold him now, dead and fast asleep.
That Christmas day so long ago, the day I did give birth.
The day when lil' child came down, onto unholy earth
He came to bring us Peace and Joy, He came that we might Live
He came not wanting anything, he just came His life to give'
'Oh Mary, Mother of God!' I said, and felt my eyes go dry
And though I looked at her dead Son, there was no need to cry.


bobsbanter@gmail.com

VIEW THE
IMAGE GALLERY

ADVERTISE | WRITE FOR US | FEEDBACK | CONTACT US
Published by BETTER YOURSELF BOOKS