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[1], in your trap of hands –

less cadence be than sinew of our songs.

Mother M Francis PCC

Spirit.  1963-64. Used with permission

---

[1] Song of Songs II:15

OUR LADY OF THE ASCENSION

OUR LADY OF THE ASCENSION[1]

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

---

[1]  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.

THE LISTENER

THE LISTENER

Mary was full of listening

and the Word

was uttered in her silence

like a bellstroke.

In Mary was no threat

of clangour.  She was still

as summer-skies

wide-armed to wait the Sun.

Mary was full of stillness,

thus she heard the Ghostly overshadow

quiet as power,

fall like crescendoing thunder

on her soul.

Only a word,

a brave consent low-spoken

but every stone in hell

went limp as rag.

The heavens shot up in flame.

There was no hindrance

in Mary, quiet as humility.

The soft-strung Word

lost in negotiation,

pierced Mary’s bosom

like a clarion.

In here there was no din,

there was no traffic,

Mary was full of listening,

full of grace.

Mother M Francis PCC

Friar.  May 1969

Used with permission

LINES TO OUR LADY OF GUADALUPE

LINES TO OUR LADY OF GUADALUPE[1]

“Am I not here who am thy Mother –

what dost thou fear?”

Deep in the tangled brushwood of my hours,

you are a sudden clearing, Madre mia,[2]

amid the choke of thorn,

incredible rose.

And where my fears sit huddled in their trembling

you are a soft word spoken, O Maria,

in heart’s cacophony, a splendid chord!

Brave alabaster out of hope-shards builded,

what need I dream of beauty, I who know

curve of your cheek, the raven hair low-winging,

soft swell of lip, the delicate flight of brow!

Exuberance, be hedged in Christ Oh! Sweetly

by this rumorous smile’s so wistful bands;

and sorrow, find your meaning, find your haven

in this gentle fold of olive hands.

Authentic glimpse of heaven, Madre mia,

your image my supernal dividend

on sorrow, and my pledge past all devising

of paradisal day.  What shall I fear

of pain, of death, of diverse ignominy

when you are here, Maria, when you are here.

Mother Mary Francis PCC

Friars.  September 1968

Used with permission

---

[1] According to Catholic teaching, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to an Indian convert, Juan Diego, on 9 December 1531 in Guadalupe near Mexico City, leaving a picture of herself imprinted on the inside of his cloak.  The picture has been enshrined in Guadalupe, which has become a place of pilgrimage, visited each year by millions of pilgrims.

[2] My mother.

LATE FINDINGS ON THE BOOK OF REVELATION REGARDING THE SEARCH FOR THE WOMAN

LATE FINDINGS ON THE BOOK OF REVELATION

REGARDING THE SEARCH FOR THE WOMAN

I.  “A Woman clothed with the Sun ...”

(Revelation 12:1)

                                    To the Sun

Why do you idle without her

at small task of universe-lighting,

burning for pastime blazed hole in the sky?

Tell me, why are you not busy

with hanging in fire-folds around her?

And why she discarded your vesture?

I search for the Mother.  Where is she?

                                                                        She is down on earth, mending the world.

II.  “With the moon beneath her feet ...”

                                    To the Moon

Here is white clue of her standing!

Clear footprints she left on your silvered

surface indented by feet swiftly gone.

Why did she step from the platform

you offered for floor of her treading?

Say, I beseech you, why spurning

by Queen of you?  Where has she gone?

She went down to earth needing mending

III.  “And on her head a crown of twelve stars ...”

                                    To the Stars

How strange discovery halts me

on search for the Queen! – twelve lorn stars

strewn over planets when crown was dropped down

In haste of her going to answer

small piteous cry that made summons

to Queen’s heart, untilted the stars,

left stellar coronal for business

of Mother.  But where?  Tell me where has she gone?

She is down on earth, mending the world.

Mother M Francis PCC

Summon Spirit’s Cry.  San Francisco: Ignatius Press

(c) 1996.  Mother M Francis PCC.  All rights reserved. Used with permission.

CAUSE OF OUR JOY (Concerning Seven other Sorrows)

CAUSE OF OUR JOY

(Concerning Seven other Sorrows)

They said: “He has a devil!” Jesus – whom you

had known announced by angel, had heard sung

by sky-flung host of angels on that night

in Bethlehem, and would hear told by angels:

“Risen! He is risen. Not here, He!”

                                                                                                        It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                        first ran our wine of joy.

Or when familiar brow of hill grew furrowed

to knolls of anguish that men should lay claim

on nature’s loyal innocence to cast Him

over and down, lest sound of truth be heard

by townsmen of Him, traitorous cousinry,

                                                                                                        It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                        first ran our wine of joy.

Counted over and over in your loving

were twelve, a dozen in solicitude

of you for them; food, sandals, lodging rest.

before the Supper was not intuition

already, Mother, yours?  One shall betray Him.

                                                                                                         It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                        first ran our wine of joy.

What sword of sorrow pierced your listening love,

to hear Him cry: “I thirst” who once had nursed Him

with substance of yourself?  What now to give

save substance of your willing of your Cross-stand

improvident but for love’s partnering.

                                                                                                        It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                        first ran our wine of joy.

“Let Him come down! He cannot save himself!”

How cruel drumbeats on your memory,

O Mother of many liftings to your breast

a Child too small to save himself from falling,

grown now to cross’s hoisting past your arms.

                                                                                                          It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                          first ran our wine of joy.

That was the whole world’s weeping face laid in your

Pietà-ed lap when Peter’s face went down

into your lap of mercy and you were

first made Queen of Confessors to first pope

needing your healing hand on memory.

                                                                                                          It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                          first ran our wine of joy.

We search our joy and find its price too high.

Wine without treading down’s the drink we seek,

and all in vain unless you teach us, Mother:

                                                                                                             It was the crushed grape of your heart

                                                                                                             first ran our wine of joy.

Mother M Francis PCC

Summon Spirit’s Cry.  San Francisco: Ignatius Press.

(c) 1996.  Mother M Francis PCC.  All rights reserved. Used with permission

PRAY THE SEVEN SORROWS ROSARY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84Qp1quXn_8

This devotion to the Our Sorrowful Mother originated in the thirteenth century, when seven professional men from Florence were influenced by the penitential spirit common to the Brothers of Penance with whom they were in close contact. In 1240 they withdrew from society in order to pray and serve the Lord. They led a life of penance and prayer and service in honor of Mary. Many visitors knocked on their doors. The men now repaireed Monte Senario, where the organization the Servites (Servants of Mary) was formed. By 1244, under the direction of St. Peter of Verona, they began to wear a religious habit similar to the Dominicans and began to live under the rule of Saint Augustine. The Servites devoted their prayer to the rosary of the Seven Sorrows. The choice of the number was derived from the symbolic value of he number seven, suggesting fullness, completeness, and abundance. Consequently only the principal sorrows are listed.

The chaplet recalls the Sorrows the Virgin Mother of God endured in compassion for the suffering and death of her Divine Son. The Seven Dolors are taken from Scripture events and the devotion has a long history, and developed gradually. Before Pope Pius VII's formal approval, the Servite Order had permission in 1668 to celebrate the Feast of the Seven Dolors because the Order was instrumental in popularizing the Seven Sorrows Devotion. Members of the Servite Order actively promoted the Chaplet of the Seven Sorrows during the time of the Black Death (1347-1351). [1]

[1] The Seven Sorrows Rosary youtube Catholic Devotions

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84Qp1quXn_8

With thanks to youtube and Catholic Devotions

'Images of Mary' by Dr Luky Whittle

IMAGES OF MARY

In the Marian Praise poetry of American religious seekers with specific reference to the second quarter 

of the twentieth century

by Dr Luky Whittle

During research for this book, I studied under the supervision of Dr Margaret Mary Raftery, a specialist in medieval English in whom I found a kindred spirit. 

Dr Raftery instantly recognised my need to resuscitate the then mainly dormant corpus of Marian praise poetry of ages past; an endeavour in which she actively supported me. 

My search for twentieth century examples of Marian praise poetry led me to the United States, where at the Marian Library of the University of Dayton, Ohio, I was welcomed with infinite kindness, courtesy and hospitality as well as the utmost intellectual support by the staff, certain of whose members and associates are recognised world authorities on Mariology. 

My thanks are due to the poets whose work was used in this research. The earliest Marian poetry we are aware of in English in its Anglo-Saxon form was composed in the seventh or eighth century by the poet Cynewulf, who drew heavily on the impressive rhetoric of the existing Latin and Greek songs of praise of the Blessed Virgin. 

In the spirit of Cynewulf, the authors of the poetic utterance that comprises the bulk of this study are described in the title as "religious seekers", an appelation used in the contemporary terminology of the United States inter alia to describe women religious who make vows of lifelong poverty, chastity and obedience. 

These seekers render themselves more freely available in the service of the spreading of the Kingdom of God. They are referred to in this study as nun-poets.

The work of a few outstanding exponents of the genre of Marian praise poetry such as Robert Southwell and the Victorian priest Gerard Manley Hopkins have been included. 

This study was undertaken at a time when there are signs of a resurgence of interest in the Blessed Virgin Mary. The concern has a universal rather than a religion-based orientation.  

"Two thousand years after the Nativity, the mother of Jesus is more beloved, powerful and controversial than ever,"  proclaimed the front page of Life Magazine's Christmas 1996 issue. 

'Images of Mary' serves as an introduction to the work of the nun-poets, much of which deserves further individual consideration. 

It is hoped that it will open doors for future scholars to explore a school of literature that deserves far greater exposure than it has apparently received for several decades.

Please refer to the following link for 'Images of Mary'

https://scholar.ufs.ac.za/items/a63b868d-b8c0-43dc-a4fd-1cc468880a92

by LA Whittle - ‎1998

Apr 24, 1983 - Lucia Antonia Whittle. A thesis submitted in ..... The images of Mary as drawn by pre-Conciliar religious seekers of the twentieth century echo ...

Life Magazine Christmas 1996 issue

https://www.oldlifemagazines.com/december-01-1996-life-magazine.html

Life Magazine Christmas 1996 issue

https://www.amazon.com/Life-Magazine-Monthly-December-Virgin/dp/B008JG4O4K

With thanks to University Free State, South Africa, Life Magazine and amazon.com