Under a velvet sky
Strewn with effervescent stars,
A sweet Breath blew
In from the window
Onto the composer.

“How will this be?”
Troubled, confused.
She picks up her pen.
Inspired by Word, Spirit,
Hannah’s prayer, and Psalms,
She composes.
Edits.
Revises.

I have never considered
The creative instincts
Of my Savior’s mother.

What is it to be told,
That the Son of God,
Emmanuel,
Will be made incarnate
(Though you’ve known no man),
Through your own flesh and blood?

And to lean over the desk,
Near the flickering Flame,
And pour out your heart and soul,
Into a word,
A form,
A song.

“He has helped his servant Israel,
In remembrance of his mercy.”

Mary, the artist,
Impregnated, inspired,
By the Holy Spirit,
Whose reply was,
“Let it be to me according to your word.”

Mary, the sub-creator,
The writer of song,
The bearer of life,
Who believed the fulfillment
Of that ancient, incomprehensible,
Long awaited for, promise.

I have never considered
That Mary,
Overcome with this beautiful truth,
Welcomed the Messiah
Into this broken world
With art;

That as a child,
He might have pondered
The words
Of her sacred lullaby.

Jaclyn Hoselton

Jaclyn Rios Hoselton is an American expat living in Heidelberg, Germany. She has an MA in English Literature from Universität Heidelberg and is a wife and mom of three. She alternates between being hunched over the desk writing down words, and bursting out of the front door to run, bike, or garden. She loves a good story and exploring new cultures. https://jaclynhoselton.wordpress.com/