The Evening of the Visitation

The Evening of the Visitation
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Go, roads, to the four quarters of our quiet distance,

While you, full moon, wise queen,

Begin your evening journey to the hills of heaven,

And travel no less stately in the summer sky

Than Mary, going to the house of Zachary.



The woods are silent with the sleep of doves,

The valleys with the sleep of streams,

And all our barns are happy with peace of cattle gone to rest.

Still wakeful, in the fields, the shocks of wheat

Preach and say prayers:

You sheaves, make all your evensongs as sweet as ours,

Whose summer world, all ready for the granary and barn,

Seems to have seen, this day,

Into the secret of the Lord's Nativity.



Now at the fall of night, you shocks,

Still bend your heads like kind and humble kings

The way you did this golden morning when you saw God's

Mother passing,

While all our windows fill and sweeten

With the mild vespers of the hay and barley.



You moon and rising stars, pour on our barns and houses

Your gentle benedictions.

Remind us how our Mother, with far subtler and more holy

influence,

Blesses our rooves and eaves,

Our shutters, lattices and sills,

Our doors, and floors, and stairs, and rooms, and bedrooms,

Smiling by night upon her sleeping children:

O gentle Mary! Our lovely Mother in heaven.

                                           
                                          Thomas Merton

Fading Glory

The sun is shining quite brightly here but our country seems to be going through a dark, wintry night. As trees are stripped down in the winter, I believe America is in a period where it will be stripped of its hypocrisy and the bitter fruits it has sown will be  "bared" for all to see. We've already seen this to a degree and I believe it will continue until "eyes are opened" to the truth of our sinfulness as a nation. Let people accuse me of a lack of patriotism but I won't pretend for the sake of the label "patriotic" to be blind to the sins of my country. I belong to the Kingdom of God first. People accuse Christians of negative thinking but I think we are more concerned with truthful thinking than whether it's  positive or negative. Besides, what is negative about purification and becoming more aware of our sins? Seems like a great thing to me and it brings about healing to boot.

I was reading an article yesterday on the recent shootings  and was shocked by the anti-Christian sentiment in the comment section. Do people really believe that God is to blame for this horror? Sin is to blame. And the author of sin is NOT God.

On occasion I get negative comments on my blog too. I usually delete them but once in a while I save them as a reminder of just how far people will go to offend Christians. As a Catholic I've been told that I'm going to hell (or worse). Once, a man left me a comment after a post about abortion and when I clicked on his link I landed on a site in which the author's sole purpose was to blaspheme God in any and every manner possible. I deleted him as a follower but could not understand why someone would go to such lengths to harass those who have Christian blogs. Or maybe I do know...he was as repulsed by my blog as I was by his. My blog, especially my post on abortion, deeply offended him; his blog and his post about Jesus (you wouldn't even want to know the scenarios he put Jesus in - perverse to say the least) deeply offended me. He wanted me to see his blog and knew I'd be disgusted by it.

The spiritual war going on reminds me of one of my favorite poems:


To the Immaculate Virgin, On a Winter Night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady, the night is falling and the dark
Steals all the blood from the scarred west.
The stars come out and freeze my heart
With drops of untouchable music, frail as ice
And bitter as the new year's cross.

Where in the world has any voice
Prayed to you, Lady, for the peace that's in your power?
In a day of blood and many beatings
I see the governments rise up, behind the steel horizon,
And take their weapons and begin to kill.

Where in the world has any city trusted you?
Out where the soldiers camp the guns begin to thump
And another winter comes down
To seal our years in ice.
The last train cries out
And runs in terror from this farmer's valley
Where all the little birds are dead.

The roads are white, the fields are mute.
There are no voices in the wood
And trees make gallows up against the sharp-eyed stars.
Oh where will Christ be killed again
In the land of these dead men?

Lady, the night has got us by the heart
And the whole world is tumbling down.
Words turn to ice in my dry throat
Praying for a land without prayer,

Walking to you on water all winter
In a year that wants more war.
         
         Thomas Merton

The Evening of the Visitation

I love Thomas Merton's poetry. My favorite poem by him is To the Immaculate Virgin, On a Winter Night  but this one is my second favorite.  Enjoy!


The Evening of the Visitation
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Go, roads, to the four quarters of our quiet distance,

While you, full moon, wise queen,

Begin your evening journey to the hills of heaven,

And travel no less stately in the summer sky

Than Mary, going to the house of Zachary.



The woods are silent with the sleep of doves,

The valleys with the sleep of streams,

And all our barns are happy with peace of cattle gone to rest.

Still wakeful, in the fields, the shocks of wheat

Preach and say prayers:

You sheaves, make all your evensongs as sweet as ours,

Whose summer world, all ready for the granary and barn,

Seems to have seen, this day,

Into the secret of the Lord's Nativity.



Now at the fall of night, you shocks,

Still bend your heads like kind and humble kings

The way you did this golden morning when you saw God's

Mother passing,

While all our windows fill and sweeten

With the mild vespers of the hay and barley.



You moon and rising stars, pour on our barns and houses

Your gentle benedictions.

Remind us how our Mother, with far subtler and more holy

influence,

Blesses our rooves and eaves,

Our shutters, lattices and sills,

Our doors, and floors, and stairs, and rooms, and bedrooms,

Smiling by night upon her sleeping children:

O gentle Mary! Our lovely Mother in heaven.