May It Be Done To Me

Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.”
Then the angel departed from her.
Luke 1:26-38

May it be done to me

according to your word,

that what begins in me shall be

the mercy of the Lord.



For I know God has seen,

though high he sits above,

all that I am or I have been,

yet looks on me with love.



In love he lifts me up

and fills my hungry soul

'til I become the flowing cup:

Through me his rivers roll.



These waters still run on

to break through dams and walls

and cast the mighty towers down

and lift the weak and small.



This flood he turns to wine

himself becomes the feast,

shaped from the little that is mine,

to fill our every need.



I am, and still shall be,

the handmaid of my Lord.

I say, may it be done to me

according to your word.

The angel Gabriel’s message to Mary. Altar screen from Fet stave church, Sogn. By Unknown author – Kulturhistoriskt lexikon för nordisk medeltid. Helsingfors 1956, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=57525940

Visitation

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the infant leaped in her womb,
and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit,
cried out in a loud voice and said,
“Most blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears,
the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
Blessed are you who believed
that what was spoken to you by the Lord
would be fulfilled.”
Luke 1:39-56

Within me, yet not of me,
in answer to your voice:
the sudden wave that floods me,
the flutters of his joy.

The child of such long promise
sees more than I can see—
What light shines in his darkness,
now you have come to me?

And silently he shouts it;
what words can barely form
his ecstasy announces:
The coming of the Lord!

Who am I to receive him,
unseen though he appears?
Blest are you who believed it,
the word that touched your ears!

For here within your body
salvation lies in wait,
and when he parts those waters,
new life shall run in spate!

Across the hills you bear him,
how hiddenly, the Christ,
and I, who have been barren,
am bearer of delight!

Master of the Geneva Latini – Book of Hours (Use of Rouen)- fol. 39r, The Visitation – 1952.227.39.a – Cleveland Museum of Art (cropped) By Master of the Rouen Echevinage – https://clevelandart.org/art/1952.227.39.a, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77867996

Annunciation 2023

For these readings:

As deep as the nether world
and as high as the sky,
here in her body curled
and hid from all eyes,

the Word that spoke everything,
all that is, in six days,
as silent as angels' wings
in her waters plays.

He vibrates to hear her now,
her heart and her voice,
the maid to whom angels bow
and sing out, “Rejoice!”

As all earth will tremble soon,
feel him flutter inside,
when darkness shall come at noon
and graves open wide:

So shall the world groan with her
when the moment draws near.
The Word will cry out for her
in blood and in tears.

Alla 18. Esposizione Biennale Internazionale di Arte del 1932 è presente con otto opere, tra cui l’Annunciazione in un Tempio d’Aria esempio di Arte Sacra e Futurismo. By Mlemmi – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=113266814

Mother of My Lord

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the infant leaped in her womb,
and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit,
cried out in a loud voice and said,
“Most blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears,
the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
Blessed are you who believed
that what was spoken to you by the Lord
would be fulfilled.”
Luke 1:39-56

Oh, come to me across the hills
on any rugged path you find, 
and though it calls you backward still,
leave dusty Galilee behind

to let me hear you say my name.
Call to my now in ancient voice
to crack my chrysalis of shame
as something in me leaps for joy.

O Mother of my Lord, O blest,
how can it be that you should come?
But like the swallow, build your nest
and stoop to rest in this, your home:

no bygone shrine, untouched by years,
but living, breathing dirt and grime.
Come clothe him in my sweat and tears
and cradle him in arms like mine.

Not in a page of history
or atlas of a distant land,
but come, my mother: Visit me;
I'll feel him move beneath my hands.

Bring him to me! Bring me your son,
and quicken me with his own life,
that all my days while yet they run,
may hold the living, present Christ.

Eastern Christian fresco of the Visitation in St. George Church in Kurbinovo, North Macedonia By Unknown author – http://faq.macedonia.org/images/embrace.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9976800

How Can It Be? (Elizabeth’s Song)

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the infant leaped in her womb,
and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit,
cried out in a loud voice and said,
“Blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears,
the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
Blessed are you who believed
that what was spoken to you by the Lord
would be fulfilled.”
Luke 1: 39-45

How can it be, in these late days,
that you should visit here?
That something in me leaps in praise
to know you drawing near?

How can it be, O living Lord,
though I had given up,
you now fulfill your ancient word
and fill the empty cup?

That after all my long despair,
O God, how can it be
you tear away the earthly veil
and come to dwell with me?

That you should fill me with your life
and fill my mouth with song,
and in my heart your wellsprings rise
where drought had reigned so long?

Now shall the barren places bloom,
the deserts harvest joys,
now you have filled the inner room
and freed the muted voice!

I have no words to speak of this
but these: How can it be?
I know not how, but so it is:
My Lord has come to me!

Master of the Geneva Latini – Book of Hours (Use of Rouen)- fol. 39r, The Visitation – 1952.227.39.a – Cleveland Museum of Art (cropped) By Master of the Rouen Echevinage – https://clevelandart.org/art/1952.227.39.a, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77867996

Fiat

For the feast of the Immaculate Conception, but a day late.

The sun in all its glory,
the moon that glows and fades:
This is your mercy toward me
that fills my nights and days,
the very earth that holds me,
the waters running down,
and every word you've told me,
all woven as a crown.

My body like my mother's, 
the blood within my veins,
the heart that skips and flutters,
the breath that won't remain:
They hear your whisper call me,
your angel speak my name.
Your shadow falls upon me;
I cannot stay the same.

Now you have turned me over,
have raised me from the dust
and built yourself a tower,
a body from my rust.
And all my world is shaken,
the high stars toppled down,
when in my flesh you quicken
and in my waters drown.

Your name is no less holy
hung on an infant's arms:
the mighty one made lowly
to fill the empty heart.
Your promise you remembered
though long the years have been,
and all creation trembles
now you have called it kin.