An Easter Poem

A poem for Holy Saturday:

Limbo
by Sr. Mary Ada, OSJ

The ancient greyness shifted
Suddenly and thinned
Like mist upon the moors
Before the wind.
An old, old prophet lifted
A shining face and said:
“He will be coming soon.
The Son of God is dead;
He died this afternoon.”

A murmurous excitement stirred
All souls.
They wondered if they dreamed –
Save one old man who seemed
Not even to have heard.

And Moses, standing,
Hushed them all to ask
If any had a welcome song prepared.
If not, would David take the task?
And if they cared
Could not the three young children sing
The Benedicite, the canticle of praise
They made when God kept them from perishing
In the fiery blaze?

A breath of spring surprised them,
Stilling Moses’ words.
No one could speak, remembering
The first fresh flowers,
The little singing birds.
Still others thought of fields new ploughed

Or apple trees
All blossom-boughed.
Or some, the way a dried bed fills
With water
Laughing down green hills.
The fisherfolk dreamed of the foam
On bright blue seas,
The one old man who had not stirred
Remembered home.

And there He was
Splendid as the morning sun and fair
As only God is fair.
And they, confused with joy,
Knelt to adore
Seeing that He wore
Five crimson stars
He never had before.

No canticle at all was sung
None toned a psalm, or raised a greeting song.
A silent man alone
Of all that throng found tongue –
Not any other
Close to His heart.
When the embrace was done,
Old Joseph said, 

“How is Your Mother,
How is Your Mother, Son?”

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Easter...Farm...Poem

Grandmother Farm poem

She saw it clearly.
Everyone walking about manifesting themselves.
The sad sinners bouncing around
Miserable and spreading
Misery

All one is able to do is walk about,

                     [the city 

                           a cesspool of blindness]

  At each encounter alleviate
the delusion or pain to the extent one can ease it.
that it is allowed to be eased.
like washing a cut,
like wiping a mouth

Like opening eyes
As Jesus took Pilate as far as he could go… (and Peter and John ...and Mary...)

and with Herod said nothing, 

lest it redound to herod’s greater hell  

(which herod's life created.)

Who, walking about, is filled with peace and sureness, joy and grace?   

Farm Grandmother

 easter poem mtodd
Redux
http://marysbeagooddogblog.blogspot.com/2014/04/farm-grandmother.html

Children...the National Treasure

More pictures of Jesus

Here

https://marysbeagooddogblog.blogspot The-Jesus-question

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Easter Egg Beauties

Stunning... when  you have 12 hens a laying,. ..
(but for real easter beauty, go Here...Holy-Easter-poem

JRRTolkien Poetry

"J. R. R. Tolkien was not only the author of the best-selling novel ever written, but a fierce Catholic whose Faith was pervasive in his work. "
https://ucatholic.com/blog/long-lost-poem-by-j-r-r-tolkien-is-a-beautiful-christmas-prayer-to-the-virgin-mary/ 

 Besides the Sun there may be moonlight but if the Sun were removed there would be no Moon to see. ..... – Letter 250,
The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien

 Not a poet in the traditional sense, Tolkien published nearly 40 poems throughout his life. In 2016, two lost poems by the Anglo-Saxon scholar were discovered originally published in an obscure 1936 annual magazine for Our Lady’s Abingdon in Oxfordshire.
 Of the two, one is a Christmas poem entitled Noel dedicated to the Virgin Mary:

 “Noel is a beautiful and unusual take on the Christmas story, set in a wintry landscape. The focus is on Mary, which may be why Tolkien wrote the poem for the school magazine, given that we are dedicated to Our Lady.”
 Read the beautiful Christmas prayer to Virgin Mary, Noel, by J. R. R. Tolkien below:


 Grim was the world and grey last night: The moon and stars were fled,
 The hall was dark without song or light, The fires were fallen dead.
 The wind in the trees was like to the sea, And over the mountains’ teeth It whistled bitter-cold and free, As a sword leapt from its sheath.
 The lord of snows upreared his head; His mantle long and pale Upon the bitter blast was spread And hung o’er hill and dale. The world was blind, the boughs were bent, All ways and paths were wild: Then the veil of cloud apart was rent, And here was born a Child.
 The ancient dome of heaven sheer Was pricked with distant light; A star came shining white and clear Alone above the night. In the dale of dark in that hour of birth One voice on a sudden sang:
 Then all the bells in Heaven and Earth Together at midnight rang.
 Mary sang in this world below: They heard her song arise O’er mist and over mountain snow To the walls of Paradise, And the tongue of many bells was stirred in Heaven’s towers to ring
When the voice of mortal maid was heard,
That was mother of Heaven’s King. Glad is the world and fair this night With stars about its head, And the hall is filled with laughter and light, And fires are burning red.
The bells of Paradise now ring With bells of Christendom, And Gloria, Gloria we will sing That God on earth is come.


Here is a poignant poem circulating now...

holy-easter-poem

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