another poem!

Now newly titled, inspired by crusader88's comment:

Mater Pulchri Amoris

Thou art the sun and moon, the day and night,
The sunrise glory and the sunset light...
The beauty that the weaver of the world
Threaded through thee and in thy fair flesh furled
Can but be hinted at in words like these,
For all words break and fail, like stormy seas,
When at thy feet we gaze upon thy face,
So glorious and so pure - so full of grace.

We kneel before thee and we kiss thy feet --
Unworthily we do it, Mother sweet,
For who of all our fallen human race
Of his own merit merits such a grace?--
And call to thee for aid amid our pain,
Oft borne for such great loss - for such small gain!
But thou, upon the pale moon's crescent throne,
Wilt smile on us to say, "Thou'rt not alone,
I too have suffered, child of mine, for thee;
Else how could I thine own true Mother be?"
For this our Mother we to call thee dare,
Knowing that thou wilt hear thy children's prayer.

©Inés de Erausquin 2008