The Mystery (For Joseph)

Your first thought was, perhaps, an anxious one:
A vision of your future, spiraling,
Into exclusion and shame;
Perhaps, too, somewhere an inkling of guilt.
(Have I brought this on myself?
Should I have seen the warning signs?)
Responsible, faithful up to the last,
No doubt your spirit still squirmed.
 
Yet you heeded the sounds of dreams;
When faced with the truth, you listened,
Going to the altar with
The sacrifice of all your pride,
Standing by her while her shame
Bulged for all the world to see,
Knowing only through a veil
What mystery was here conceived.

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