The stars are out.
It is the night.
The moon is out.
So big and bright.
The snow is soft.
A blanket of white.
Icicles melt.
In the starry night.
All is calm.
Not a soul awake.
Only the trees are left to shake.
An angel’s voice.
Another too.
Mary comes clothed.
In deepest blue.
She sleeps on the moon.
A blanket of cloud.
While angels are motionless.
Knees bent, heads bowed.
The stars twinkle goodnight.
And Mary replies:
“Rest to all nations
Under my skies.”

Poem for Our Lady
January 1, 2017
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