(This one is an imitation of Thomas Merton's "To the Immaculate Virgin, On A Winter Night")

Lady, the light is searing and we sink

Into the shade of the old trees.

The clouds drift by and puncture our world

With pieces of mercy, subtle as the sun’s fall

And relentless as the rise of the new day.

Where in the world has any heart

Turned to you, Lady, for the grace that’s within your reach?

In a day of slow and selfish striving

We tire ourselves out, avoiding the sun’s beams,

And forgetting what we failed to do yesterday.

Where in the world has any home trusted you?

We plod heedless through fields as the colors begin to bloom

And another summer ripens

To heal the hard earth with mercy.

The first fruits sing out against our silence

And reach, rejoicing, toward the wide-open sky

Where all the little birds fly free.

The roads are wet, the fields are green,

There’s a hymn in the wood,

And trees make ladders up into the white and blue.

Oh where will Christ die and wake again

In the land of these sleepy souls?

Lady, the heat has got us by the heart

And the whole world is fading away.

Words catch and melt in my dry throat

Waiting for a chance to prove my faith,

Climbing to you through the roof all summer

In a body that still needs to be freed.