OUR LADY OF THE ASCENSION*
Fold your love like hands around the moment,
Keep it for conference with your heart, that exit
caught on clocks, by dutiful scribes recorded
less truly than in archives of your soul.
Turn back from His going, be His still-remaining,
lift the familiar latch on cottage door ...
discover His voice in corners, hear His footsteps
run down the porches of your thoughts! No Powers
however hoarse with joy, no Dominations
limp with adoration guess what whispers
of: "Mother, look!" and: "Mother, hurry!"
glance off the cottage walls in shafts of glory.
How shall your heart keep swinging longer, Mary?
Quickly, quickly, take the sturdy needle
before your soul crowds through your flesh - the needle
and stout black thread will save you! Take the sandal
Peter left for mending. After that,
the time is short, with bread to bake for John.
Mother M Francis PCC
Cord. August 1958
Used with permission
* The Ascension of Our Lord Jesus Christ is referred to here. The poem is a reference to the loneliness Mary must have suffered after returning from seeing
her Son ascend into heaven forty days after His Resurrection.