For sheer love (The Assumption, Joachim Smet)

  No painter ever caught the magic other going – 

This was a matter of an inward growing, 

Simple and imperceptible as thought. 

It was no pageant wrought 

Of sounding splendor, welter of gold bars 

Of molten day, mad stars, 

Flurry of quick angels’ winging, 

Bursts of their laughter ringing 

In wild bliss. 

The simple fact is this: 

Love conquered at long last. 

Her eager soul fled fast 

With a great gladness like a song 

Unto her Spouse above, 

And her pure flesh would not be parted long 

For sheer love. 

--Joachim Smet, O. Carm.,

The Assumption

   

Image source:  Michael O'Brien, The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Poem source