“The Windsock Visitation” by Brother Michael O’Neil McGrath
Windsock Visitation” by Brother Michael O’Neill McGrath – See more at:
And Mary said,
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’
– Luke 1:46-55
moment the angel arrived,
a small seed of fear
itself at the base of her throat.
love enabled her to speak
a few short words around it and in their wake
with feathers/ that perches in the soul”
her breast and there the two
together – fear and hope –
the one winning out, at times, the other.
Who’s to say
which aided her more
as her feet hurried
along the path
house – the fear that pressed
behind, or hope that drew
her like a
It was the
sight of Elizabeth,
that wizened woman leaping
with effort to her feet, the great,
round belly swaying its way
toward Mary, that broke
Mary laughed, a short,
bark that burst past the fear
dislodging it forever from her
like a watermelon seed
spit on a summer’s afternoon.
like Sarah, the sound growing
as her lips
spread wide, white teeth and red tongue
Elizabeth, catching the glimmer
eye, began to sing and sway
in a strange dance, made absurd
enormous girth and ripening old age.
giggled, like the young girl she was,
who had nothing left to lose
The old woman grasped Mary
by the hand, her own face,
spread wide by joy and wonder.
when, the story goes, young
John leaped his
famous leap, but it’s also
in which the thing with feathers
wings and sprung from Mary’s soul –
hope flew up
her throat, past the red parted lips,
into a song that could not be suppressed.
danced their way over and between them
as they swayed
and spun together, two bodies
expectancy, one young, one old.
song found wings it was irrepressible;
words and tune, the strange swaying steps
carried her, always, along the long, dark path ahead.
I’m journeying with John D. Blase and Winn Collier to write on a lectionary text each Monday of Advent. The truth of the ‘word made flesh’ is that words touch us each in different ways, in different places. Visit their blogs, The Beautiful Due and WinnCollier.com to read another perspective on this passage.