O Lady,
your portrait
has found its way -
all the way
from Russia
to my hands.
How has this happened so wonderfully:
that your icon should come to me
who has touched
and held
things
unworthy of one
thought of
and created in a
God-breath?
O Lady,
your veil is dark and of the earth.
And I am of the earth too.
And I want to know myself
by the illumination of my mind,
to my own short-comings
and the life of holy perfection
God has prepared for me
and to which God calls.
O Lady,
your face is pressed against the forehead of your Son.
Do you see the danger which already surrounds your Child?
See the dangers that surround me too, Holy Mother,
and protect me from everything
that could steal goodness
away.
O Lady,
Your eyes - wide awake;
you have nothing to hide.
Wake me up to faith,
that God has a plan and purpose for me,
wants me to be happy,
holds no grudges against me,
but wants me healed and whole
and full of life that will last
even forever.
O Lady,
Your mouth is small,
and inviting:
Shhh!
To be a listener,
to the drip of rain,
the music of morning birds
and evening insects,
to the sighs of my heart
and the tears of those who weep.
O Lady,
Your Son's forehead
so strangely
enlarged.
But he holds my name
and the names of all the others
in his mind,
and all our stories with their
twists and turns,
advances and set backs,
foolish,
even deadly choices,
and still
good hope.
His mind, large and filled
with the events of human history,
even the barriers against Jesus
not yet in place -
Jesus,
who only carries a heart of love
and the invitation of his eyes
to come in close to his
warmth and light.
O Lady,
Your Son's robe is filled
with sparks
from heaven
that dart about,
that can set my heart
glowing.
And finally, O Lady,
framed in silver,
reflecting light,
holding you and your Son,
and all the more
my heart,
O Mother,
shining and
bright,
embracing and
decorated
with love for you
and all the good
of heaven
and here,
this earth-paradise.
Father Stephen P. Morris
