Skip to comments.A poem for Holy Saturday (brought an unexpected tear to my eye)
Posted on 04/19/2014 2:07:52 PM PDT by Mrs. Don-o
Limbo by Sister Mary Ada, OSJ
The ancient grayness shifted
Suddenly and thinned
Like mist upon the moors Before a 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
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
Or some, the way a dried bed fills
Laughing down green hills.
The fisherfolk dreamed of the foam
On bright blue seas.
The one old man who had not stirred
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
Not any other.
Close to His heart
When the embrace was done,
Old Joseph said,
How is Your Mother,
How is Your Mother, Son?
That’s beautiful. I never heard of that poem before.
Thank you so much for your Easter present to us, Mrs. Don-o. It is beautiful. Made me get teary eyed too. HUGS to you...
Thank-you and God Bless. A good and blessed Easter to you.
Good for Easter Sunday as well!
Happy Easter to all!