The Woman said, This is my body. Take.
The Woman said, This is my body. Take.
My heart and soul and strength are wholly yours.
And thus she gave her body to God’s Son.
She is a priest, this mother blest: she makes
the bread of life, and from her flesh adores.
The Woman said, This is my body. Take.
She pondered our betrayal’s wound – the ache
Of our unhallowed grief she sought to cure.
And thus she gave her body to God’s Son.
She saw what He must give for our life’s sake.
She taught the Word the words that first were hers.
The Woman said, This is my body. Take.
She shared Eve’s plight, but lit by God’s pure ray,
Her light turns gravest loss to hope most sure.
And thus she gave her body to God’s Son.
Her fiat made God man, and then He breaks
A glory-bread that through all time endures.
The woman said, This is my body. Take.
And thus she gave her body to God’s Son
Johanna Caton, O.S.B., is a Benedictine nun from Minster Abbey in Kent, England. Born in Virginia, she lived in the United States until adulthood, when her monastic vocation took her to England. She writes poetry as a means of understanding the work of God in her life, whose purposes and presence can be elusive until viewed through the more accommodating lens of art and poetry. Her poetry has appeared, or will appear in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Time of Singing Christian Poetry Journal, The Christian Century, and other venues. She is a 2020 Pushcart Prize nominee.