OUR LADY OF THE ASCENSION

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.

PSALM FOR THE MOTHER OF GOD

PSALM FOR THE MOTHER OF GOD

Sleeved and skirted in sun, informed with Spirit,

invade the moments of our history,

Mary with all your terrible bright battalions.

You are less cadence than sinew of our songs,

girl whose smiles run down our joys, O woman

whose fiat blames our sleep of sorrow, Mary,

loop our feet retreating with your glances -

ropes of lilacs stouter than any chain!

Virgin of perspective, focus us

fast on your Son, and catch our straying glances,

little foxes*, in your trap of hands -

less cadence be than sinew of our songs.

Mother M Francis PCC

Spirit. 1963-64. Used with permission

_______________________

* Song of Songs 11:15

OUR LADY OF SCIENCE

OUR LADY OF SCIENCE

Our Lady is a geometric form,

a being perfect in the subtle mind;

Our Lady is a prism glass designed

to break the pattern swiftly to the Norm.

Our Lady is a lulling and a storm,

a portent of a vista yet unmined;

Our Lady is all elements combined,

a crucible of heart upstirred and warm.

Here where to one divine event the pace

of time is set; here where the cradled seed

is promise of the life, the final lace

of man to God - this is the prayer, the creed -

Lady of Science, of atom, of cell,

O come, to shape the place for Christ to dwell.

Sister Maura SSND

Where once the wild Arbutus grew. 1945

Used with permission

OUR LADY OF SONG

OUR LADY OF SONG

My soul doth magnify the little sound

of coming song: the shuttle of the leaves

before the rain; the thunder of the sheaves

of winter clouds so silently unbound

before the snow; the whir of wings that mound

a nest; the soft, sharp breath that childhood weaves

upon a gift; the stir of ghostly greaves

of angel's armour guarding us around.

Unbar the cloister of your song; the larks

that Francis* knew wheel agile, sunward, high;

From psaltery of the heart unswing white sparks

Of beauty, bird and star flung to the sky.

Set free your voice above the lonely throng,

The sound you bring is peace - Our Lady's song.

Sister Maura SSND

Where once the wild Arbutus grew. 1945.

Used with permission

_________________________________

*St Francis of Assisi, the saint who was known for his love for nature, birds and animals.

OUR LADY OF WISDOM

OUR LADY OF WISDOM

Our Lady holds all Wisdom unconfined

within her veil, her arms, her heart - a weave

of love about herself. No nights bereave

the Light she bears. Who are of spirit signed,

to these she comes to share the Essence undefined

and undefinable. To shy young Eve

she brings the great desire that will leave

 a lovely, humble halo on the mind.

Our Lady walks in wisdom in this place,

as young a girl as these; Our Lady knows

what subtleties great Aquin's* words may trace,

and, knowing, lifts the rod, and bears the Rose

announcing gifts of splendour, all His, His,

Who Father bides, and Godhead, He Who is.

Sister Maura SSND

Where once the wild Arbutus grew. 1945

Used with permission

____________________________

* St Thomas Aquinas (1226-1274), the Dominican priest, theologian, philosopher, writer and saint

OUR LADY OF THE REFUGEES

OUR LADY OF THE REFUGEES

Mother who knew

what hardship shakes

a woman bundling clothes

and putting by her wheaten cakes;

Mother who urged the donkey

(making happy riot

on the straggling stones)

urged the beast to be more quiet:

Mother who heard the Child

whimper beneath the thin blue shawl,

our aching prayers cry out to thee,

Mother, pray for them all.

A thousand Bethlehems

mask dark tonight;

the eyes of little friendly homes

have lost their light;

pathetic heaps of poor, dear things

are laid aside; a small bird sang

where a latched door swings.

Mother, whose sad Egyptian flight

preceded all of these

guide them in faith beneath familiar stars,

Our Lady of the Refugees.

Sister Maura SSND

Marian Library Collection

Used with permission