OUR LADY OF LANGUAGE

OUR LADY OF LANGUAGE

In every tongue a little lullaby

for dusk and children in the cradle curve

of arm.  A word for “love”, a word to swerve

off hate, a word for “live”, for “die”.

In every tongue a question – what and why –

in each the answer, this – to praise, to serve,

to reign.  One word to snare the poet’s verve

there is, and one to praise a starlit sky.

Our Pentecostal Lady of the tongues,

come, liquefy the barriers of sound;

in your few words were swept and scaled the rungs

of love’s largesse, and worlds serenely spanned.

Ah Lady, pray that here He may increase

in those whose voices hope to bring His peace.

Sister Maura SSND

Where once the wild Arbutus grew.  1945

Used with permission.