The Blessed Virgin Mary Compared to the Moon (Repost)
14 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
Here´s a poem written and posted a couple of years ago which I decided to revisit again in honor of the two Marian feasts which we have just had. It reflects how my conversion from Wicca meant, in a sense, the baptism and reevaluation of certain symbols.
When you think about it,
this jewel of the angry pagan goddesses
and stupefied poets
is hers by right.
Her very likeness sculpted
neat and precise in the heavens,
like the petals of a white stone rose
The light of God worked into her face
She walks gently in the beam of the Son, so that invisible
He may be seen. So that night may be pressed down
in serpentine shadows beneath the trees.
Not the pride of the witches trying to squeeze light
From the atoms of their faces, trying to swallow
The celestial like a pill.
but the humility of one who of dust was made
who was raised to be a white mirror of the divine
who in summer or winter
pulls a veil of cloud across her face.
So that only the light is visible.
So that all is light.
But moreso that when darkness
radiates like black thread from the soul
She diffuses His light into smaller pieces
And pours it out on the snow like a mother
Passing warm hunks of bread between the black bars of the pines
