Notre Dame Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

NOTRE DAME

I

Conceived by the very heart of Our Lord,
In Judea's sun,
In the womb of Saint Anne,
The immaculate miracle of Our Holy One
Overshadowed her in humility
To usher in the Son of man.

In a state of ineffable mystery,
Our Lady born, of David's lineage,
Married perfection to humanity
For every age,
For all to see.

And if you can pierce through
His Majesty's mind
You will gladly find the sage in you
To understand the reason why
Eve mistook fruit for a god.

Rejoice in that propitious fault
And acknowledge the strange and apparently odd.

Celebrate Our Redeemer's astounding plan
Which victoriously transformed our pain, our death
And every wizardly, cobwebbed vault
Into opened gates of eternity,
Into liberty for imprisoned man,
For the wretched likes of you and me.

II

And when Gabriel came
With love from on high,
With a trembling flame,
Mary did not hesitate
To see her brave and mighty life
As one to be fulfilled in a glorious fate.

And despite all strife
She would live and die
For the mendicants and the reprobate.

III

And at the station of the bloody base
Of her only Son's cross of bitter, thorny wood
Which for three hours stood
He suffered to erase
Our impossible debt. (Which, like the thief, all brothers
By His mercy seem to steal.)

Our Lady did embrace
Every terrible trace
Of His radical sacrifice.
(More than all others
Possibly could.)
For blazing fire and savage ice
Was felt there unseen.

And every sword of her agonies did breach
All understanding in the minds of men
Which is still out of reach,
Today, as then.

Hail, Holy Queen!
Hail! Hail! Amen!

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ