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How grateful I was, that she made herself known
All those years ago, through a vivid dream
In a place where I discovered immeasurable compassion
Prompted by a higher form of love.

And where there was at first only empty dilapidated rooms
Grey with industrial features that led nowhere,
I found myself guided to a room where people were waiting
Which seemed warmer and furnished with pleasantness.

And just for my benefit alone, so that I might know the meaning of peace,
A female choir sang to me from behind an ornate screen;
Those graceful ladies, with such purity and voices, uplifted me,
As their singing carried within it the essence of spiritual love.

And turning my gaze from this beautiful tranquillity
My eyes beheld an empty crib, which rested upon a wooden support;
Around it were other items that acted as adornments spiritual,
And, Intuitively, I knew it symbolized the crib of Mary's child.

Then, a Sister of Mercy, known so well to Mary,
Clothed traditionally in her black and white raiment,
Approached me with gentleness, and without any need for words,
Guided me to a place where I could rest.

It seemed as if all the emotion of the world was manifesting
And welling up inside of me, like a wave swelling to its peak,
And responding to the Sister's profound compassion
I wept the greatest tears of my life.

These tears came forth with such feeling
It seemed to flow from me like a departing tide,
And such was the effect of the Sister's holy presence
that I became released from an accumulated sadness.

 

Written by Mark Woollacott
7th August 2008.