Poems

I.
Thou innocent Virgin yet truest of mothers,
Whose silence hosts of angels proclaim,
The moment of redemption for all our brothers,
Encased within a fragile frame;
Her humble posture speaks not of fear,
Yet the blinding light before her stands abrupt,
To the Lord’s request she lends her ear,
To save a world that lay corrupt.
II.
What resplendent company to behold!
Though her garments unsuitable to receive a stranger;
A greater mystery awaits- ready to unfold,
In a room disarrayed from a long day’s labor;
What message does thy ear perceive?
What choice has yet to be made?
What feeling does thy heart possess
under its bitter poundings?

III.
Thy age and beauty forever young,
The path less traveled- lie still before her,
The day she receives a burning tongue,
And the moment she assumes to her creator;
The array of color and meld of emotions,
Capture the pains of life so soon,
Ye say “We pray to thee our Mother” in devotion,
That our petitions be answered through
The Queen of the stars and of the moon.