Christ comes

A Sunday-poem from Sr. Genevieve Glen, OSB:

Christ comes, the promised peace of God,
His hands with healing filled,
In him is brokenness made whole
And love from hate distilled.
And when he comes, for whom we long,
Then will all rage be stilled.

Christ comes, the promised hand of God,
To cast the veil aside
That shrouds the world in bitter grief,
Where none from death can hide.
And when he comes, for whom we long,
Then will all tears be dried.

Christ comes, the promise kept by God,
The faithful One, and true.
In him is ev’ry hope confirmed
And ev’ry fear subdued.
And when he comes, for whom we long,
Then all will be made new.

Arise, belovèd, come

A very good and dear friend died very unexpectedly from cardiac arrest yesterday. . . .  This song we sing keeps going over and over in my mind:

“Arise, belovèd, come,
For spring adorns the land;
The vine in flower will bear sweet fruit;
Arise, and take my hand.”

The voice of Christ impelled
Her heart to rise and go
To hidden places carved in rock
That only lovers know.

“Arise, beloved, come,
and let me see your face,
and I will be your summer sun,
and you my dwelling place.”

She lived in faithful prayer,
The Sun her constant flame
Through autumn gold and winter snow,
Until he called her name:

“Arise, belovèd, come,
For summer walks the land.
The vine in flower has borne its fruit,
The harvest is at hand.”

~Genevieve Glen, OSB