PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Her daughter was most grievously vexed,

possessed by evil spirits, foul and lewd,

The doctors stunned, shook heads and were perplexed

To see a child by demons so pursued.



Ill spirits shook in seizures violent,

This woman’s daughter that she held so dear,

And day and night the mother would attend

And watch dread paroxysms with great fear.



Wild madness or some cataleptic trance.

And more such frightening states did alternate

To change again to savage vehemence.

With piercing shrieks and utter loss of sense.



The woman was from ancient Canaan,

Of true Semitic stock - but not a Jew.

But Holy Writ called her “Phoenician”

Without a creed, - a social bugaboo.



Yet Jewish tales had reached this mother’s ear-

Of the Zarephath widow and her sort,

Whose son had died  and lay upon a bier,

But had his life by wondrous deed  restored.



She knew the story of the Shunammite,

Who’d entertained Elisha in her home,

He did great signs, and also prophesied,

And woke from death the grieving  mother’s son.



And other stories filled her troubled mind,

Such as that healer man from  Galilee,

Who cured the lame, the deaf, the dumb and blind,

And set the mad possessed from demons free.



They said He had arrived from Galilee,

That set His foot upon Phoenician ground,

Some said that He enjoyed to watch the sea,

And sunny beaches when He made His rounds.



And there she found Him with her urgent plea,

Though she knew well she was importunate,

“Lord heal my child,- thus she begged fervently,

Give ear Lord to a mother low prostrate“!



But His disciples murmured angrily:

“Send her away this  pagan who knows not

Our Law, traditions and our legacy,

Nor can imagine aught of our God”



And Jesus seemed at first aloof and stern,

And spoke odd words of dogs and crumbs of bread,

Perhaps to test her faith so she may earn

A miracle so great for which she pled.



He challenged, but the woman had keen wit,

Accepted the metaphor readily,

And understood His words, and  honed her grit,

And showed her mettle with obduracy.



“A mother is a mother Lord - it's true-

That  wishes for her children all the best,

Be she a pagan, gentile,  or a Jew”!--

And passed with flying colors thus her test.



She would accept the crumbs , could she but get,

These viands of richest spiritual food,  

And be contented with those crumbs and glad

To get and eat them with her gratitude.



And Jesus spoke ”Oh woman of great faith!

It shall be done to you accordingly"

And down on her rained streams of healing grace

That set her daughter from foul spirits free.







Saint Paul on this terrain would soon beseech

The Lord for his brave new community,

Where Jesus healed at distance on a beach

On foreign soil and by a pagan sea.



© Elizabeth Dandy