On the renewal of Religious Vows - poem, Mother Mary Francis, PCC

Apocalypse

On the renewal of Religious Vows


I saw the mists of sorrow lift like hands
And the gates of vigil melt like smiles.

And I heard a Voice like many waters say:
"No sparrow falls to the earth
Without a sigh in heaven.
And no dream dies."

Then I saw Your promises ride home like knights,
And I saw the floes of hate weep in the flames of Your love,
And the great hands of desire grow feeble
With the burgeon of Your poorness;
And I saw the masks of bitterness drop like weak tears
At the songs of Your surrender.

And then with a sound of opening blossoms
I heard a Voice say:
"The very sighs of your heart are numbered."

And I understood like a shout.

The mysteries of sorrow grew simple as fire
And the white throat of despair
Blushed with a psalm.

And the Seraphim came and warmed themselves at Your chastity.
And the Dominations waved palms before Your acquiescence.
And the Thrones veiled their faces before Your refusals.
Then I heard a Voice full of stars say:
"I have numbered your tears.
And no dream fell to the earth
Without my knowing."

I saw You open Your arms like eternity.

Then the mists settled on my heart again.

- Mother Mary Francis, PCC