OUR LADY OF UNDERSTANDING
OUR Lady understands
Though prayerful are her folded hands;
Her face is pale
Within the azure shadow of her veil.
Here in this shrine she seems remote, apart,
For the dim centuries have quenched her fire,
The slow years molded her to their desire.
Ah, still she knows
The ecstasy that glows
In my wild heart!
Once, not submissive, meek
With pensive brow and duteous cheek,
There came a cry exultant, strong;
“My soul doth magnify the Lord!”
Clear as a ringing sword
I hear her song.
In high humility
She knew herself to be
The Chosen of God, the Gate of the Divine.
I kneel before her shrine,
I gaze upon her tranquil face,
Hail Mary, full of grace!
I, too, know Love,
And I am humble, proud, and wise.
Our Lady understands
All joy, all woe;
The Son of God she laid to rest
Upon her breast,
She knew the wounded Hands,
And there is nothing else to know.