The angel said to her… “He will be great,
and will be called the Son of the Most High,
and the Lord God will give to him
the throne of his ancestor David.
He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever,
and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
While the White guys stand up and sing
“Mary did you know?” I think of the women
of color, mothers unseen, hidden from us,
who dream for their sons a kingdom
of justice and dignity, a realm where they’re safe,
not needing a throne, but a place.
Those Marys know. They know.
They know who their sons are, and their daughters,
their gifts, their calling, their anointing,
and what will be withheld from them.
They know what they dream, and how far off it is.
They know how the White guys will keep on singing,
imaging a far-off Mary, while the real ones right here
keep on knowing, and keep on dreaming,
and keep on singing their own song.
When will the White guys sit down and be silent,
and hear the other song, drawing near,
sounding like lament, sounding like an uprising,
sounding like angels?