Poem: The Most Holy Name Of Mary
By: Eric Gajewksi
From the work, "Fortress of the Soul"
Ecclesiasticus 24:24
I am the mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope.
I am the mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope.
Here is my latest poem from Fortress of the Soul. Please enjoy and share, Ave Maria!
Please play the video below and listen as you read the poem...
The Most
Holy Name of Mary
Behold! A Vine brought forth most pleasant
A Plant free from of any poison which men now can eat
For these art the words I savour
Of Our Mother of fair love and holy hope
Come unto me! Is heard from the valleys beneath
She, Who calls us eagles to the cliffs to meet
And be ye filled with my many fruits
And of my love which is sweeter than honey
And follow my feet which helps thee steer clear of
the worlds dung
A Mother whose light is mere reflection of the Son
Brilliantly breaking thru the hearts of men
Harken! Let Wisdom speak it!
Spread thy Wings in Faith even as She opened Her own
Heart
For her own knewest His from thy very start
Our Coredemptrix, a Fortress of David, full of grace
For blessed art thee amongst ALL created
Who now leads us forth, our Ark, into the new day
Whose womb produced Salvation, Our Lord Whose Name
is Great
Help me, O’ Mary to break the vices of self
That I might smash my own will
Help me, to cast aside all doubt and worry
Intercede, that I might arrive in this climb uponst
thy holy hill
For no man can ascend in this Fortress
Who still clings to “his own”
For we must walk thru this life as nothing with
nothing
Detached at heart lest we pace in the Abyss below
wherest devils roam
Help me O’ Mary for my eyes still canst see!
Purging my soul until clean
Because to be in His Presence is Glory, Glory,
Glory!
Let me not be found barren, thus, plant me by thy
Tree
Wherest thy holy name alone always leads us to His
Cross
Wherest my lowly obstinance meets His exalted
humility…
Ecclesiasticus 24: 23-30
[26] Come over to me, all ye that desire me, and be filled with my fruits. [27] For my spirit is sweet above honey, and my inheritance above honey and the honeycomb. [28] My memory is unto everlasting generations. [29] They that eat me, shall yet hunger: and they that drink me, shall yet thirst. [30] He that hearkeneth to me, shall not be confounded: and they that work by me, shall not sin.
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Amazing poem!
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