Limbo
\nby Sister Mary Ada<\/p>\n
The ancient greyness shifted
\nSuddenly and thinned
\nLike mist upon the moors
\nBefore a wind.
\nAn old, old prophet lifted
\nA shining face and said:
\n\u00e2\u20ac\u0153He will be coming soon.
\nThe Son of God is dead;
\nHe died this afternoon.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
A murmurous excitement stirred
\nAll souls.
\nThey wondered if they dreamed \u00e2\u20ac\u201c
\nSave one old man who seemed
\nNot even to have heard.<\/p>\n
And Moses, standing,
\nHushed them all to ask
\nIf any had a welcome song prepared.
\nIf not, would David take the task?
\nAnd if they cared
\nCould not the three young children sing
\nThe Benedicite, the canticle of praise
\nThey made when God kept them from perishing
\nIn the fiery blaze?<\/p>\n
A breath of spring surprised them,
\nStilling Moses\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 words.
\nNo one could speak, remembering
\nThe first fresh flowers,
\nThe little singing birds.
\nStill others thought of fields new ploughed
\nOr apple trees
\nAll blossom-boughed.
\nOr some, the way a dried bed fills
\nWith water
\nLaughing down green hills.
\nThe fisherfolk dreamed of the foam
\nOn bright blue seas.
\nThe one old man who had not stirred
\nRemembered home.<\/p>\n
And there He was
\nSplendid as the morning sun and fair
\nAs only God is fair.
\nAnd they, confused with joy,
\nKnelt to adore
\nSeeing that He wore
\nFive crimson stars
\nHe never had before.<\/p>\n
No canticle at all was sung
\nNone toned a psalm, or raised a greeting song,
\nA silent man alone
\nOf all that throng
\nFound tongue \u00e2\u20ac\u201c
\nNot any other.
\nClose to His heart
\nWhen the embrace was done,
\nOld Joseph said,
\n\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How is Your Mother,
\nHow is Your Mother, Son?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n