Rock-a-bye Baby.....

This beautiful painting was found on the internet but artist is unknown to me. 

Amid the roses Mary sits and rocks her Jesus-Child,

While amid the treetops sighs the breeze so warm and mild.

Ah, Baby, dear one slumber now

Happy is Thy laughter; holy is Thy silent rest

Lay Thy head in slumber fondly on Thy mother’s breast

Ah, Baby, dear one slumber now,

And soft and sweetly sings a bird upon the bough.

“The Virgin’s Slumber Song” by the Madeleine Cathedral School Choir in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA.

If you want....

If you want,

 the Virgin

 will come walking down the road

pregnant with The holy,

 and say,

"I need shelter for the night,

please

 take me inside your heart,

 my time is so close."

Then, 

under the roof of your soul,

you will witness

 the sublime intimacy,

The Divine, 

The Christ,

 taking birth forever,

as she grasps your hand for help,

for each of us is 

the midwife of God, 

each of us.

Yes, there,

 under the dome of your being

does creation come 

into existence 

eternally,

through your womb,

 dear pilgrim

 the sacred womb 

of your soul,

as God grasps 

our arms

 for help:

for each of us

 is His Beloved servant,

never far.

If you want,

 the Virgin

 will come walking down the street

pregnant with Light and sing.

St. John of the Cross

Sitting with Our Mother...

The Theotokos' Lament

( Painting by Nicholas Mynheer)

The Most Holy Virgin descends
from Golgotha that dark night
with slow steps, filled with immeasurable pain
 Only John is at her side,
The nearby rocks shudder
At her lamentation
Everything around her grows silent
Unable to speak.
The road is hushed-pansive
The world is numbed by great pain
And as they walk in this unseemly place,
Like shadows passing in the darkness,
The Virgin sings her funeral dirges,
The most beautiful ones she knows.

The mountains and hillsides echo her dirges,
As she passes by, each flower withers and fades
The Virgin weeps on this day that has become,
The darkest of all days, within God's creation.
Christ is truly the God-Man, but She,
The All-Holy One, is above all, a mother
Now in the distance She hears a voice

That pierces the calm of this desolate place,
Oh, what sadness in that voice,
Who can she be?
What causes her groaning?
"What other poor woman must share this pain?"
"What other poor woman must mourn and sing her dirge
at a loss of another child?"
Another mother weeps,
Yes, a mother sitting alone and cast out,
A mother, shedding dark tears without consolation
She, as the Virgin, has lost her son
She, this unfortunate one, cannot forget him for a moment.
The All-Holy One saw Christ nailed to the cross,
The other, her son also hanging from a tree.  Oh, how she weeps!  Oh, How she cries!
And no one seems to be moved by her tears.
But the All-Holy One knows her pain
The All-Holy One hears her dirge
And goes to meet her,
To offer her words of love and comfort.
With sweetest of smiles,
The Mother of Christ says,
"Mother, what is your distress?
Why have you cast yourself down in this dark, deserted place?
You are not the only one,
To lose the light of your eyes this day
I, too, have lost my son.
Now cease your cries and tell me about your son."
The other mother, who is guilt ridden,
Lowers her eyes to the ground;
This request wounds her to the very core of her being.
She bows and timidly replies,
"My sister, Judas is his name,
My unfortunate son.
And only one mother in all the world
Can know the knife wound that pierces my soul.
I cast myself to the streets, as a beggar-woman am I,
My God!  I should never have aspired,
To the dignity of Motherhood."

But, the All-Holy One understood;
She, too, knows this woman's son.
But the Mother of Christ does not groan;
She does not leave,
In that moment She leaves her pain behind
And for the mother of the traitor,
She sheds her own, precious tears,
She bends and kisses her and strokes her hair,
And She holds her tenderly and firmly in a warm embrace.
She speaks to her with tender words
And gently calms her soul,
She gives her courage
She gives her strength
She raises her up from the ground,
"Come," she says, 
unfortunate one,
You must have some rest
Let us go together
Let us go to my house
You will spend the night with me.
There together, we will share our motherly pain
We will mingle our tears and pray."

How compassionate is the All-Holy one
And, they go forth together,
Leaning on each other, lost in their pensive thoughts,
Two mothers walking in sisterly embrace.
Yes!  Because Christ who was hung on Golgotha today,
Gave to us the great commandment:
"That we should love one another."

(The author of the original Greek poem is unknown.  The story is not historical. It is a didactic
(morally instructive) folk legend along the lines of the medieval Russian
"Descent of the Virgin into Hell.")

" I should like to have lips the purest to pronounce the name of Mary, and a pen of gold to write it."
St. Mary of Jesus

Mary's Garden

(Painting by Edmund Blair Leighton)

She sits in Mary's garden

Reflecting on her day,

Our Blessed Mother smiles at her,

and makes her want to stay.

Such a friend she has become

Her love is always there,

all the woman has to do

is sit and share a prayer.

With her rosary in her fingers,

the day begins to shed it's light,

the woman bids Adieu and

returns the following night.

Bless this woman, Sweet Mary,

with you, we shall not fear,

For this woman who prays to you...

is my Sister, dear!

Lindy P.

Dedicated to my sister, Laurie with love.

The Book 'Fatima in Lucia's own words...

In this book, Lucia tells the following:

"One day, we began to sing in happy chorus about the joys of the serra:

Ah! tra lala, la la
Tra lala, la la
La la la!

In this life everything sings,
And who sings better than I?
The shepherdess out on the serra,
Or the maid a-washing in a stream!

There's the merry chirp to the goldfinch
That comes to awaken me,
As soon as the sun arises,
The brambles come alive with his song.

The screech owl cries at night
Seeking to frighten me,
The girl in the moonlight sings
As she gaily shucks the corn.

The nightingale in the meadow
Spends the whole day long in song,
The turtle dove sings in the wood,
Even the cart squeaks out a song!

The serra is a rock-strewn garden
Smiling happily all the day long,
Sparkling with gleaming dew drops
That glisten on the mountain side!

"We sang it right through once, and were about to repeat it, when Francisco interrupted us: "Let's not sing any more. Since we saw the Angel and Our Lady, singing doesn't appeal to me any longer."

I would like to think that Our Lady smiled when she heard them sing this little song!

Sweet Dreams.....

"Amid the roses Mary sits and rocks
her Jesus Child,
While amid the treetops sighs the
breeze so warm and mild,
And soft and sweetly sings a bird
upon the bough.
Ah, Baby, dear one
slumber now.

Happy is Thy laughter; holy is Thy silent rest,
Lay thy head in slumber fondly on
Thy mother's breast,
Ah, Baby dear one,
slumber now."

The Virgin's Slumber Song.

Tea Time with Mary...

How sweet it is to have tea with a good friend! I wonder what it would be like to have tea with Mary? We would probably talk about loving our sons. I read a silly fiction book, not too long ago, where this woman is visited by Mary, wearing running shoes and a long raincoat! Mary just kind of shows up in this ladies house! I don't even know why I thought of that.

I can picture Mary and I having Tea...she isn't wearing running shoes though! She is beautiful and gentle and a very good listener.

I wonder if she takes cream and sugar?

Feeding the Birds

I saw this picture and fell in love with it! I love it because it shows a very human element to Mary. Here she sits, just loving her son....spending time with Him and just enjoying Him.