In the midst of multicolored specs,
My gaze turned upon Her:
The Virgin of Tepeyac.
My heart fluttered its wings with joy at Her sight.
Heading to Her,
As a child seeks after a butterfly resting on a branch,
I beamed at Her,
As four angels watched in awe.
My two right-handed fingers,
Pressed to my lips,
Touched her salmon, gold-filigree dress,
And Her praying hands,
Above the Christ Child,
Dwelling in the Holy Ghost’s Temple.
Genuflecting,
And then kneeling,
Pressed to my lips,
Clinging a rosary and a medal
To Her praying hands,
Like a stethoscope,
Listening to the pulsations of Her Heart
…Ave Maria…
…Gratia Plena…
…Dominus Tecum…
Sweet grace
From a cable line
Flowing, an electrical current,
Surges from Her Heart,
And enters mine.
O dear Mother, holy and refined,
I hope to give Thee honor
For the glory of God Divine!
JFB
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