Category: Marian Poetry

Those evil spirits of that fallen one,
Exiled to earth, our human sphere, now seek
To human hearts inhabit that are weak
And seek to stand apart from God, alone.
For human strength is found upon those knees
That bow before the One who said, “Don’t eat;
You learn the truth while sitting at My feet,
For good and evil are my choice you see.”
But we, like Eve, here bow instead to hear
The one incarnate in that serpent’s life,
Who seeks to enter us with Devil’s strife
And rob us of our own good human cheer.
O Jesus, now incarnate and awake
Our conscience in us, Mary’s choice to make. 

In Mary’s remnant now is magnified
The goodness of created human race:
New Eve sin free, since First had all disgraced,
By God’s own Son her womb is sanctified
When she’s conceived through Joachim’s, Anna’s act.
In love, His myth God makes to be a fact.

In Mary’s blood flows choice of Israel
With Noah’s Ark and Rainbow ‘cross earth’s sky—
Refined, now pure from Satan’s garden lie
And First Eve’s choice made human race all ill.
Now one is washed, anticipates our end
Made pure by Son through whom new world begins—

Untwisted what had been by Satan turned,
Made vicious in its soiled, contorted state,
Now straight with virtue to become God’s gate;
He comes to claim His own who Him had spurned.
Her human “yes” is music for God’s ears:
A song to dry all Eve-made human tears.   

God’s Faithful Maid, you heard His Word and kept
It in your heart for all your children born
Of faith in Him—no longer are forlorn.
In Father’s love, He, friend of Lazarus, wept
And raised His friend, who from a grave then stepped—
Anticipation of that Easter morn
When, raised from grave, He would all time adorn
With His new life in your blessed womb had slept.

At Mother’s breast, you suckled Holy Son
Whose Godly nature with your human joined,
In hypostatic union still distinct,
To suffer and to die and rise as one
And take what Satan had from Him purloined—
As once again our earth to Heaven linked.

O Lord, save us from garden we have grown
O’er run with weeds, a crop you have not sown,
But planted by our sin and Devil’s own
Temptation of our mother, all alone.
Please rescue her through crop of Second Eve
Sown in the soil of Nazareth by One
Who came to Mary, asked her own free leave
To mother be of Father’s only Son.
Through Vine that sprouts in Bethlehem, entwine
All people here choked by our weeds of sin,
And grow good fruit on branches of that Vine
So Eve may eat of your Life Tree again–
Then Mother Eve may sons and daughters claim
Through cross accomplished in your Holy Name.

In Your strong hands hold my weak heart,
     Reach deep within my chest
That I may now take Mary’s part—
     Through me be others blessed.

May Mary’s nature be my own,
     For she gave hers to you—
A nature that is Spirit blown
     From cross created new.

May your response, ”not mine but Thine,”
     Now lodged in Mary’s breast,
Become my words from end of time—
     Cleanse me of sin confessed.

Then make me here what I’ve become
     For all eternity
And make my heart your Spirit’s home:
     From sin’s hold I’ll be free.

                             The earth and sea and sky can testify
                             To beauty, goodness you bring in our lives
                             With truth dispels the Devil’s spiteful lies
                             As to you Mary’s heart her own Son gives.

                             For love that’s in your heart is warp and woof
                             Of who you are in Holy Trinity,
                             And you have for us all become the proof
                             That God is present for us all to see.

                             At Mass you lead us to the Father’s Son
                             Who comes to us in Body and His Blood,
                             And we know He’s for us the only One
                             Who brings salvation with His Holy Rood.

                             In you we see alive our Mother’s heart
                             As through you she a Mother’s love imparts.

                                     Happy Eighty-Third Birthday
To My Beloved Wife, Sandie
                                          From your Knick
                                           February 24, 2024 

O Mary, may your wisdom come to dwell
In me and capture my strong, stubborn will,
For I would welcome our Immanuel
As Holy Spirit did your womb indwell.

O Lady Wisdom, pray in Lenten time
That I with you will open to God’s Word
So He will come and fallow make my mind
To know Him in my heart as Savior, Lord.

May my heart’s arms be little Bethlehem
And cradle I your baby deep within
As Mother’s Wisdom in me wraps up Him
In clothes, unwrapped when He will rise again.

My longing is that my will, mind, and heart
Will open to your Son—His life impart.

Blessed Mary has become our looking glass
Through whom we see her Firstb4orn and His Church—
Brings harmony to what confuses much
Those hearts in Mother’s love refuse to bask.
For basking in her love we ponder, learn,
Discern her heart and mind in God’s own Son,
See truth enshrined in Church that all is one
As we for wholeness through our Mother yearn.
To ever grow and yet remain the same
Is nature of God’s Truth revealed in time,
As prose of human words becomes God’s rhyme;
Through pondering heart of Mary, Truth is named.
Blessed Mary’s Son forever Life and Way;
To Truth through her He leads us more each day.

Two presentations we see made today
Of Mother and her Son in nature same,
For with her nature Father has His way–
Creates a human son who’s Jesus named.

On this day are both here presented pure—
For Mary has no need to be so cleansed—
Yet follows Jewish law that’s part of cure
Of fault in us that’s been since Adam’s sin.

She has revealed that both will suffer fate
That neither of their natures will deserve–
Submit themselves to wrath of Devil’s hate
For freedom comes from Father whom they serve.

Her Son is Resurrected, She Assumed:
A Lily and a Rose forever bloom. 

How could we Christians so forget
     What He had taught before?
To Holy Church we owe our debt
     For opening that door.

But we have let that door slam shut
     By ignorance, neglect.
The past is closed, the present gluts
     Our minds that past suspects.

And in neglect we miss His truth
     Of Mother Mary’s place
As Second eve in garden Earth:
     New Mother of our race.

For Mother’s love we deeply yearn,
     So we ourselves create
A goddess, and our Father spurn—
     Return His love with hate.

We fail to see He welcomes us
      In Father’s family;
As in Begotten Son we trust,
      We enter Holy Three.

As sisters, brothers we can know
     A loving Mother’s lap,
And in her love is Father’s shown
     While in Her arms we’re wrapped.