Holy Sonnet for Mother’s Day

No need to pierce my side with soldier’s sword 
Or bleed from every pore as in Gethsemane; 
Designed by Thee to shed blood naturally 
Cycling with the menstrual moon. Lord, 
In accordance with Thy holy word 
This fragile body, too, is offered freely 
To give others life. Speak to me, 
Banish fear, let me be assured 
As I descend to Death’s dark realm 
And drink the solitary, bitter cup 
That I will be filled with peaceful, healing balm 
And, at last, with Thee be lifted up. 
I give birth to you, my brother, 
And in return am born of Thee, Christ, Mother.