Sun-robed Princess

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When he said, "here's your mother,"
He meant it.
It's real,
And she takes us as children
With love
In her eyes.

As mother she's unshakable,
Her conviction unbreakable.
A mom is the essence of trustable.
Ever-loving.
Ever-approachable.

But mothers
Can embarras you at parties.
Their touch can feel old-fashioned.
The brilliance of their youth
Doesn't flash like we know it once did,
When a boy fell head-over-heels for her.

But the prophecy, it speaks of a virgin.
A virgin is young. New.
She's smooth, soft, stunning.
Simple smiles melt a heart,
And launch a thousand ships.

As virgin she's shining.
Her beauty, breathtaking.
Incomparable.
Untouched.
But there's the thing.

There's a limit to limitless beauty.
Not free for the taking.
Out of our league.
Off-limits.

And yet there's a third.
Queen.
She'll reign forever with
Her son who's not only King,
But God.

Her crown is not of mere gold,
But Stars.

Robed in
The Sun.

As Queen she is power,
And there's nothing about her that doesn't impress.
What she asks her son,
He does.

But power breeds fear.
Throne rooms are locked.
Guarded.
Far away.
Unreachable.
And so is the Queen.

But here's the thing:

The mother is a virgin.
The virgin is the Queen.
The Queen is a mother.

A mother with youth and power.
A virgin who's close and strong.
A queen, delicate and loving.

The sun-robed princess is my mother,
And I'm awestruck,
Dazzled,
Embraced
By her tender beauty.

Poems by Ezekiel SebentienWhere stories live. Discover now