As words, when read aloud, escape a paper,
your spirit surges from your flesh in prayer.
The future’s face is covered with a veil.
May goodness escalate and love prevail.
Our bodies are of stuff the Earth recycles,
but we hope to endure as Love’s disciples.
You cleansed a soul that had been full of vermin
but did so through your love, not with a sermon.
Within a dream, no load too much to carry,
disguised as lady bug, you raised me, Mary.
Varied stories that we clothe You with
help us to see, but You are not a myth.
May I awake within Your arms, O Lord,
from life, a dream, adoring and adored.
Mario A. Pita