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

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