Have you ever wondered about Mary's father? Scripture is silent in regard to him, tradition names him Joachim... 

Born under the moon’s nail,
long expected, carried low
as was my prayer.
Unto us a child was born,
yet not to carry my name.
But children are a gift from God,
what’s born is born.
She would smile at my voice,
stitching herself to me,
a hem of grace
to my half-lived life.
Oh, Mary.

Then it all unraveled,
the veil of promise torn.

Through tears we witnessed
her jubilant shriving:
a tale of angel
and favor and son.
She spoke as one changed,
not older, but larger, magnified.
But who could believe such things?
By day her mother murmured
all things are possible.
By night she paced.
Me? I wept alone.
Oh, Mary.

Whoever the father is,
I wrestle with him in dreams.


  1. "Born under the moon's nail." Great imagery. And, I've been wrestling with Him a lot in dreams too lately.

    Really liked this!

  2. Why is it always hard to breathe here?