Lord, I was ill; my life was grey.
And you came to me.
And I heard you say:
"Who doth seek me when I am near?
Do not let the vastness of the sea
Encumber you with needless fear.
O, my precious son, who doth seek me
When I am near? "
And then His mother, clad in blue,
Said unto me: As surely as heaven is thine
I have always known you.
Truly I am yours, and truly you are mine.
For regard, my son, the dawn comes after the night.
And when you were in darkness I graced you with light.
In my mothering arms,
Free from all alarms,
Grace upon grace I showered upon your soul."
And I thanked the merciful Lord
For creating such a wondrous mother
Who never fails to make me whole
Always in accord
With His will alone,
Always as no other.
And the sun it rose,
And His love was proven true,
As the nascent dawn gilded the blue
In the quiet of my garden close.
JOHN LARS ZWERENZ
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem