CAUSE OF OUR JOY
O
Mother of fair love, it was not alone
Christ
whom you mothered on the first Christmas night,
not
alone the Orient, the splendour that outshone
daylight
and suns and all created light.
It
was not only this new dearness, kissed and held
in
love and lullabies among the straw,
warmed
by the breath of oxen that still smelled
of
clover and sweet fields. But in deep awe
there
crept in with the shepherd and his sheep
and
bowed down with the Oriental king
your
other children who will always keep
the
joy of your mysterious mothering,
Cause
of our joy, heaven’s gate, at once our mother,
on
that first Christmas night, through Christ, our Brother.
Sister Maris Stella CSJ
Frost for St Brigid and other
poems. 1949. New York: Sheed & Ward
Used with permission
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