Motherhood is known to mothers
But even these forget

Even mothers forget
The secrets that they knew

Perhaps it would be better if they would remember
How close to death it felt
To give birth

Perhaps it would be better if they would remember
How much goodness and life
Came out of pain

For you see, that’s the crux of the mystery
That’s where a mother shares in
The crucifixion

And the secret is: it repeats
The mother’s power
Does not end at the birth of her child

The mother’s power
To shape and to form, through her own suffering,
Extends to the spiritual

In the way that Christ paid the ransom for all
A mother can pay the ransom for her own
If she wants to

St. Monica paid it
And St. Augustine remembered it
For the sake of other mothers who know what is worth wanting

This is a mystery
But it is true
A mother can save her own

And you argue with me
Hard-hearted one?
Your agenda is to hide your own sin
To confuse
To obfuscate
The truth

A mother can save her own
Though a child sins in a way that seems new
(Sin is a corpse wearing makeup in the latest styles)
Though a child sins openly or behind closed doors
(Sin is everywhere)
A mother can save her own

Don’t speak to me of consent!
You do so for the sake of argument!
And should be ashamed
Does a child grant permission to be conceived?
Does a child grant permission to be born?

In the same way
A mother has the power
Through her own pain
To save her own

It’s a mystery
But it is the pattern
Of Christ

Those who can save
Do save
One sinner atones for the sins of another
This is news to you?

It’s the mystery of the mother
Always dying
Always giving birth