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To the Mother of God

30 March 2011

Holy Mother, while at thy sweetest image I gaze
The weight of my many sins I feel in my breast;
The crystal meres of my baptism tinted now with darker haze,
And I long again to be led beside the waters of rest.
For now, who beholds me, a man of sorrows
Profound only in their utter banalities;
A life lived, primarily, for the morrow
And set running, hither and thither, in pursuit of vanities?
Only thou, in thy tenderest mercies,
Will look upon me with compassion
(Slave to sin, wretched and thirsty)
In the depths of my despair, and despairing inaction.
O Lady, speedily send me thy love and blessing here
Where all is dark, and the shadows drear.

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. 30 March 2011 03:31

    Lovely poem, sir. Good to see one of your poems again.

  2. arsenios permalink
    31 March 2011 23:45

    Beautiful, Justinian.

    I too already feel the pain of tinted baptism.

    “Only thou, in thy tenderest mercies,
    Will look upon me with compassion”

    What consolation in these lines!

    Thanks for sharing this one.

    • 5 April 2011 14:25

      Thank YOU, Arsenios, for your comment. I think most of us feel that way; especially if we are not lying to ourselves about the state of our souls. If not for the Lord’s grace in baptism, and the compassion of the Theotokos, our state would be truly desperate. Thanks again for commenting!

  3. 5 April 2011 01:22

    Amazing is all I can say about this!

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