Eve of Christmas, Poem by Sr. Miriam ocso

 

Anthurium plant joins
the Christmas tree gifts

 

Tuesday 24 December

COMMENT on Luke 1:67-79

“Our God from om high will bring the rising to visit us”.

MAGNIFICAT com

MEDITATION OF THE DAY

The Poem 'Where the Pictures Came From"

Angels are seldom overheard. But try.

Go listen.

They might be remembering.

They might be whispering about the night

they seeded the sky with embers

and it caught

All over the place, the sky took fire.

Astronomers, on various corners of the earth,

reported a shower of burning embers.

This was the night-angels will tell you–

when they clambered over the poles

and raced each other through the tundra,

and swam a hundred mountain lakes,

shaking the water off like seals,

and kept on going.

They knew they were wanted.

It had to be night, they'll tell you,

because night is so simple, so all one thing,

even when burnt with embers.

And God had poured himself so flawlessly

into a human heart

that nothing less simple than night

could venture an explanation.

The angels got there, they will tell you.

They ran up the hill, singing a song the colour of darkness,

chanting like sea bells

in places of no horizon.

They stood in a circle on the floor of a cave,

and drew pictures on its walls

to entertain the visitors .

And rocked in their song

an infant of one hour's age,

who was as old as God.

Sister Miriam Pollard, o.c.s.o.

Sister Miriam Pollard is a Cistercian nun
at Santa Rita Abbey in Sonoita. Arizona.