Sunday, 16 April 2017

Reunion of the Mother and Son: Easter Dawn


It is often asked where the risen Christ was when the women, and later the apostles, got to the garden... Mystics and Mothers (who are often the same thing) have always known the answer.
After all, where would any son go first who had put his mother through so much?
The following lines express this hidden and unknown joy of Mary perfectly...
May it be your meditation this Easter morning.



 Reunion:



The stone rolled off,
And no one saw it.
Her heart was jubilant
And full of ecstasy.
She knew that a sea of joy
Would flow out of the sea of sorrow;
Although it would
Recede to sorrow again

She could remember
Being born in the midst of
God the Father,
And being created
Before creation.
Did She truly watch
Light come out of darkness?
Did she see shores
Come into being?
It seemed you could play
See-saw on a wave!!

She never moved.
Quietly and closed in a room,
She sat behind a door
That no one dared to open,
And looked upon the streets
Of her beloved Jerusalem,
Watching the crowds
Hurrying hither and yon;
Watching, and not seeing at all;
For the sea of sorrow
Was receding
Into the desert
Where seas go;
And she was playing
See-saw on a wave
Made by God.

She knew the Pieta was Piety.
The sorrow in her face
Was sorrow of the past.
Upon it lingered still
The shadow of the cross
And Him upon it;
But when her hands
Had touched His face,
Which the disciples thought was
Dead,
She felt the warmth
Pulsating through it.
How could God die?

He touched death
For an instant –
Abolished it forever,
And it became
An angel of surpassing beauty;
For whom men of faith
Would wait with bated breath;
Death hasn’t icy fingers at all
They are warm –
The fingers of the angel of love.
The ice, the cold, the decay
That is for men of earth to see;
For their eyes are not conditioned
To the resplendent state of the
Soul.

She knew
He was not dead forever;
Not one bone would decay.
He slept, quietly, obediently,
In the tomb;
For He was obedient
Even after death.

But when they rolled
The stone before the tomb
He was free to roam;
To come, to go
To be
Where all those years
He could not be
Or could show Himself.

Out of the tomb
To hell,
To bring joyous news;
Then, like a man
Would visit
In a pilgrimage of love,
The places that made His heart
Beat faster
As a man.

When She had held His cold-warm
Body
She trembled
With the joy of it –
Knowing He would come
To visit Her first
The Magdalene would be the next
To see Him.

So She sat alone
With the door closed –
They thought to grieve
But no! To wait.
Who was there to see
Or hear what passed?
Who was there to know
The glory
Of music born in that room?
The Music of His voice and Hers
Mingling as voices
Never did before.

“Tonight is the night
Of my first unknown joy.”

“It is just as well
That men count them as seven;
For how else could they count
My joys or sorrows?
There are not enough stars
In heaven
To add them up –
Seven will do nicely.”

“Come
Share in one of my unknown joys.”

“He came to Me
In my chamber,
My Son!
My Lover!
And overflowing rapture
Condensed in utter ecstasy
Filled Me again.






“It was as if
I had conceived anew,
For all my being
Felt His coming.
The room pulsated
With the beat
Of angels’ wings
But even the seraph’s eyes
Were sealed.
Not even they
Could look then
Upon the Mother and the Son
And so they chanted
Alleluias.

“Did you know that I,
The first stigmatic,
Had the wounds?
It happened simply,
Perhaps He was two or three,
Perhaps, I am not sure.
It is hard
for one who encompasses
eternity
to think in time.
One day He was playing
At My feet,
And suddenly
Like a little swallow
He kissed each foot.
The wounds began to throb.

“At seven or eight
He kissed each palm,
Lingeringly.
And I knew
The feel of nails.

“He came once
In early spring,
On a shiny sunny day.
His hands were full of flowers.
He sat on a small stool
And wove a crown for Me.
I knew the weight
Of thorns
Upon my head.

“In May, in your land,
Children repeat His gesture.
It brings back the memory
Of thorns, sweet, deep, sharp.

“He was a suckling at My breast.
One night,
Somehow, His face fell
From My nipples;
And His warm mouth touched my side.
Was it a kiss?
Was it a lance?
From that blest night
The pain was there
Never to go.

“So you must know
My unknown joy,
The rendezvous We hels –
My Son and I –
The night they thought
They had sealed His tomb
So tight.
Where do you think
He went?
He went to the place
He loves most in Palestine –
The room of His Mother.

“Wonders will never cease!!
The room was aflame;
For where My Son is,
There is My spouse,
The Crimson Dove
Who holds Me tight.
The angels’ wings
Made melody of strings
As they chanted their
Alleluias
In a circle of bliss,
And He sat at My feet
And I looked into His eyes –
Above to below.

“The Crimson Dove
Brought the flame of love;
And the Father was there
Unseen, jubilant, joyous,
Taking delight in His Son.
And as He did,
The Crimson Dove grew,
And a flame covered the earth.
Alleluia
Alleluia
Alleluia.

“The stone was still tight
On the tomb of My child
Who was with Me.

“I give you the Paschal gift.
Put out your hands
And take it to your heart
This is the night of joy!
Alleluia!
I am an
Alleluia
In the flesh
Tonight.”

(Lines from Catherine deHueck Doherty's epic poem: "Our Lady's Unknown Mysteries.)

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