Sing To Me, Mama

An ekphrastic poem for Georges de La Tour’s "The Newborn Child"

Thanks to Melanie Bettinelli for suggesting this painting as an inspiration.

You’ll find her invitation here. Feel free to contribute a poem anytime.

The Newborn Child, oil-on-canvas, c. 1645–1648 by Georges de La Tour, The Museum of Fine Arts of Rennes, France.

Sing To Me, Mama

as I pretend to sleep, 
bound in softest cloth

drown in milky broth
helpless in your arms.

Remember me like this, Mama
now and at the end.

Jesu . . . Jesu . . . I treasure you.

Greet me like the one you've
always known somehow,

hide me safe for now
though they come for me.

Soothe me with your song, Mama 
as I pretend to sleep.

Jesu . . . Jesu . . . I treasure you.

--After Luke 2:19

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Ever since I first saw it, I have loved this painting for the way it captures the early hours between mother and babe. In this mother’s face (most agree she is Mary), I recognize my own postpartum bewilderment—how I left my old life behind and was reborn into immense beauty. A world that I had done nothing to earn or deserve.

I also remember the sorrow and fear I felt then—and feel more urgently now—knowing how dangerous and cruel our world has become for innocent ones, especially children.

I have always had an overwhelming need to protect others. This need is why I became a nurse, and then a mother, and then a nurse again; so I can have a clear way to help. Most days I’m able to do some small, concrete acts of advocacy and healing. Being of service comforts me, too.

I believe we each have a vocation that can be hard to hear.

Mine is a shy thing, arising from the periphery. Never planned or forced, but plainly obvious when I finally notice it. The calling is ongoing and shifts, so I keep listening for it.

Sometimes sitting with a work of art or piece of music helps me listen to what I’ve come to know as the Holy Spirit speaking quietly into the day. I rest in beauty like this, however briefly, to remember how it feels to be overwhelmed by love.

May you find a quiet place where your heart can stay tender, held between heartbreak and miracle, tragedy and gift.

xo Ann