Category: Poetry

Thou were long beforehand with my soul

All of our life is but a response to Someone who has always loved us first.

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Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

On the occasion of my 25th anniversary of my Final Profession, I had the opportunity of choosing the music for the Mass of celebration.  For the closing hymn, I chose the following song.  It’s an anonymous poem put to music by one of our sisters.  The language is a little quaint, but the message is so true for each of us–and yet we forget it all too often.  All of our life is but a response to Someone who has always loved us first.

I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
he moved my soul to seek Him, seeking me.
It was not I that found, O Savior true.
No, I was found, found by Thee.

Thou didst reach forth Thy hand and mine enfold.
I walked and sank not on the stormy sea.
‘Twas not so much that I on Thee took hold,
as Thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find, I walk, I love, but O the whole
of love is but my answer, Lord, to Thee!
For Thou were long beforehand with my soul.
Always Thou lovedst me.

Always He loves you.

and the Angels danced

Heaven’s response at our penitence.

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Sr. Dorcee, beloved1 Comment

This poem by Mother Mary Francis, a poor Clare, has been on my mind this morning:

Choreography for Angels
“I say to you, that there is joy among the angels
in heaven upon one sinner doing penance . . . ”
(Luke 15:10)

Who spun these Angels into dance
When wars are needing all artillery
Of spirits’ cannonading.  Armistice
Wants first the over-powering wings, and they
Are occupied with pirouettes!  Who did this?

                               Gone penitent, I caused it.  I confess it.

Who tilted flames of Seraphim
In arabesques of pure delightedness?
Is not the cosmic crisis begging fire
For full destruction of hate’s hazarding!
Why Seraphs swirling flames on floors of heaven?

                                  I lit the heavens, when I bent my head.

Who lined mystic corps-de-ballet
Of Cherubim?  Who set in pas-de-deux
This Power with this Principality?
Why these Archangels not on mission sent
Today, but waltzing on the stars, and singing?

                         I am the one who did this.  I confess it.
I smote my errant heart, and Angels danced.

May we remember this is the reality of the Heart of God.

The Mercy of God

Sr. Dorcee, beloved3 Comments

I was thinking this morning of introducing you to Jessica Powers, a discalced Carmelite nun who wrote poetry.  Which poem to share with you first, for whichever I choose will form an opinion of her?  I’ll start with the first in the compilation, The Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers:

                                               The Mercy of God

I am copying down in a book from my heart’s archives
the day that I ceased to fear God with a shadowy fear.
Would you name it the day that I measured my column of virtue
and sighted through windows of merit a crown that was near?
Ah, no, it was rather the day I began to see truly
that I came forth from nothing and ever toward nothingness tend,
that the works of my hands are a foolishness wrought in the presence
of the worthiest king in a kingdom that shall never end.
I rose up from the acres of self that I tended with passion
and defended with flurries of pride;
I walked out of myself and went into the woods of God’s mercy,
and here I abide.
There is greenness and calmness and coolness, a soft leafy covering
from the judgment of sun overhead,
and the hush of His peace, and the moss of His mercy to tread.
I have naught but my will seeking God; even love burning in me
is a fragment of infinite loving and never my own.
And I fear God no more; I go forward to wander forever
in a wilderness made of His infinite mercy alone.

                                                                                                  (1949)