She is silent now, and the engulfing doom
she said would come has not. Her enemies
claim this is proof that her past prophecies
were false, and all the villagers assume
her reticence to say God’s judgments loom
confirms as much. Her frantic ecstasies
have ceased; she’s calm and she no longer sees
the visions that descended to consume
her youth.
She does the chores (she’s married now
and pregnant), kneads her bread and washes clothes,
spins wool, cares for her chickens and her cow.
Sometimes she gazes north, as if she knows
the day is near when God’s mercy will cease
just as his voice went still. She holds her peace.