This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven’s eternal King,
Of wedded maid and Virgin Mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy sages once did sing,
That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
-John Milton, On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity
As if until that moment
nothing real
had happened since Creation
As if outside the world were empty
so that she and he were all
there was — he mover, she moved upon
As if her submission were the most
dynamic of all works: as if
no one had ever said Yes like that
As if one day the sun had no place
in all the universe to pour its gold
but her small room
-Luci Shaw
Winter snow will come.
Winter wind will blow.
Snow melts on flesh.
Wind bites the flesh.
One cannot deny they are alive
In the throes of a driving winter storm.
One cannot deny light is brightest
When filling many thousand years darkness.
Our flesh cannot deny enfleshment
When our ears are pierced by gnashing gales,
When our hands bleed upon icy snow drifts.
From Mary’s sweet silence,
Come, Word mutely spoken!
Pledge of our real life,
Come, Bread yet unbroken!
Seed of the Golden Wheat,
In us be sown.
Fullness of true Light,
Through us be known.
Secret held tenderly,
Guarded with Love,
Cradled in purity,
Child of the Dove,
COME!
-Sr. M. Charlita, I.H.M.
If everything is lost, thanks be to God
If I must see it go, watch it go,
Watch it fade away, die
Thanks be to God that He is all I have.
And if I have Him not, I have nothing at all.
Nothing at all, only a farewell to the wind
Farewell to the grey sky
Goodbye, God be with you, evening October sky.
If all is lost, thanks be to God,
For He is He, and I, I am only I.
— Dom Julian
My bondage killed, my burden beared,
He takes me through the waters,
As one spared.
Through the sea, upon dry land
He carries me across with nail pierced hands.
The waters close, my foes displaced,
He turns to me in warm embrace.
Yet there forms upon my face
A frown, and my lips proclaim:
“What is so lovely about my Lord?”
He lifts me out of mud and mire.
Anoints my head with oil.
In fire, he purges my soul of every filth,
Every pain, and every guilt.
With clean apparel and a raised head
I turn to others in His stead.
And then my lips proclaim:
“What is so lovely about my Lord?”
He fills me with every mirth and joy.
A sun to shine, a bed to rest.
Holding my heart in His hands,
He bids it beat again and again.
He grants me friends and strength
And the beauty of life with his love.
I take one rest from all these joys to proclaim:
“What is so lovely about my Lord?”
He covers me in the tent of His love
As the storm gathers to draw every flood.
And as my tears flow without end,
I sit alone as every friend
Deserts me in my time of distress,
And yet,
He remains.
Bidding me rest in the comfort of His peace.
A friend with love that does not cease.
And as He wipes my every tear,
And moves to abate my deepest fears,
I look upon His face,
And then I ask:
“What is so lovely about You Lord?”
And then my years approach their end.
And as the darkness closes in,
My accusers rise, my failure, and sin,
To trouble my heart of what stands,
Behind the door, in foreign land.
And as I tremble, failing to see,
That faithful friend proclaims softly:
“There is no condemnation to those in Me”
With that He holds my hand to cross,
Into the land of the living.
Into eternal bliss,
My soul enters, and is transfixed
On a beauty so great and wondrous,
To make me kneel in its presence!
And as I gaze upon the face
Of the One whose glory fills this place,
My heart exults.
My eyes flood.
And then I know.
I know I’ve seen this face before.
I then proclaim:
“There is none more lovely than my Lord!”
-Rodney Evans
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.
-Mary Oliver
Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.
Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.
-Sir Francis Drake
Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust, instead
Of Thee, their thin-worn images of Thy head.
From all my thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the narrow gate and the needle’s eye,
Take from me all my trumpery lest I die.
-C.S. Lewis
If you want,
the Virgin will come walking down the road
pregnant with the holy,
and say,
“I need shelter for the night,
please take me inside your heart,
my time is so close.”
Then, under the roof of your soul
you will witness the sublime
intimacy, the divine, the Christ
taking birth
forever,
as she grasps your hand for help,
for each of us is the midwife of God, each of us.
Yet there, under the dome of your being does creation
come into existence eternally,
through your womb, dear pilgrim—
the sacred womb in your soul,
as God grasps our arms for help;
for each of us is
His beloved servant
never far.
If you want, the Virgin will come walking
down the street pregnant
with Light and sing…
–St. John of the Cross, “If You Want” in Daniel Ladinsky Love Poems from God:
Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West
peacocks for pilgrims 