O Viridissima Virga
by Columbine
Most bountiful Virgin
Whole within yourself
Broken up and taken away by no one
Hear my song!
I feel you dance in the inscrutable chamber
Of the daffodil, walk your heartbeat
In the waves on the still-cold beach.
There can be no wound
That your tears can not close painlessly,
The scar of inhumanity the seal of your grace.
There can be no sorrow
That is not drowned in the immensity of your heart,
Alien, true, nameless, solid, real.
White-handed Lady, uncomprehending of reproach
Wing of the earthbound, home of the discorporate
Eagerness of the newly-thawed spring, song of starlight!
Lift my soul now to trip along your moonlit path,
Fit my hand to your bowstring,
Guide my pen with your holy verse,
School my voice in the wisdom of birds.
Let your wide-eyed wonder be the light of my world
And the sparkle of your laughter my mantra.
Rain tender disdain upon the thorns
That they may bloom unheeded
And cradle the flowers in their glory
That their passing may be easy.
So mote it be.
Return to Columbine's Poetry Index
Return to Columbine's Laboratory