“and the second person of the Trinity is our Mother in nature, in our substantial creation in whom we are founded and rooted.” Julian of Norwich, Showings.
How blessed we remain!
Within the darkness of the infinite schism
How Mother wrapped the Universe in a transcendent fabric
With caring arms
There was a rhythm that weaved the beginnings of creation
How the Mother’s love rained down into this emptiness
The frozen tears twinkling
Comforted did she enfold us
Her arms never far from within our soul’s grasp.
Patient through the workings of her tiredless hands
Cupping close and speaking Creation, calling Life
Calling us forth through the deepness of tunnels
Pulling us forward into the brilliance of Life
Under her watchful gaze, we twist, gasping and struggling
Under her watchful gaze we crawl, clawing and thriving
Fierceness casts the gale of Her anger
Shadows of malevolence piercing unwanted into the fragility of our hearts
And yet the Mother weeps for Her children
For children who rise filthy, obstinate staring into the sharpness of Her gaze
Shaking fists and spewing forth vileness against the mercy which without ending rains down
Because the Mother weeps, even as we weep, even as we writhe in pain
Whispers that flood the chambers of our weak hearts
Finding ourselves awash in grief for turning away, hiding
Hiding from the Glory of God, damned for our sin
Ignorant to mercy, ignorant to the cries
Echoed on that rough, rude cross
So we wander through the vastness of a starless sky
Beating the bareness of the earth
And yet, our cries do not go unheaded
O for the sweetness that descends, swirling around our worn tattered shells.
Grace abounds as the Mother sweeps us once more
In the contentment of Her embrace, once again that infinite darkness
Our eyes weary as the rhythm of that unending, ancient, endless rhythm of Her heart lulls
Soothes the coarseness of our humanity with Her unconditional Love
Binding us forever more to Her sacred breast.
