Our Lady (Albert Joseph Hebert, S.M.)

   Our Lady is a field of cane, 

With sweet things pledged for harvest won; 

Is field of corn whose tassels are 

A million tapers in the sun. 

                       

Our Lady is a mountain stream  

That pours clear water on the plains, 

In healing wealth for men and herbs – 

In drought is coming of the rains. 

                        

Our Lady is a garden, fresh 

Of scent, and budding every hue – 

The humblest tints grow lovelier, 

Our Lady robed in white and blue. 

Our Lady’s heart is awe to kings: 

For seven swords that sink deep down – 

And lest some little orb feel hurt 

AlI stars are gathered in her crown. 

                       

Anointed grain Our Lady is, 

And sacredness of chosen vine; 

Wherever Mass makes dying bliss, 

Is wheat for Bread, is grape for Wine. 

Our Lady is a Litany – 

And I have stumbled through a part. 

Our Lady is a ladder raised 

That men might reach a Broken Heart. 

--Albert Joseph Hebert, S.M.,

Mary, Our Blessed Lady,

New York:  Exposition Press, 1970

Image source:  Michelino da Besozzo or Stefano da Verona, Madonna del Roseto (c.1420-1435)

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6d/Michelino_da_besozzo_o_stefano_da_zevio%2C_madonna_del_roseto%2C_castelvecchio%2C_verona.jpg

Poem source