PANIS
ANGELICUS
The hour
of the Angelus.
The
shortest day of the year.
The room
all but deserted
But for
the figure resting
On the
bed, not on light depending.
Hail Mary.
The grace of sleep
Through
her fine bones
Lift her
to vision.
Elizabeth
in the next room
Hears
nothing, but the soft light
Has a
music to it.
Be it done
unto me according
To thy
word. The language of flowers.
The angel
may or may not have
Beautiful
wings, may or may not
Be
genuflecting next to Mary,
May or may
not be whispering,
May or may
not be a dreaming,
But the
soft light has a music to it.
O res
merabilis! Unaque poscimus
Sic nos tu
visita, ad lucem quam inhabitas.
Translation:
What wonder! We beg of you
That you
visit us, the light in which you dwell.
