Tag Archives: St. Elizabeth

Women on the very edge of things.

We are celebrating the Feast of the Visitation on March 30; this is the commemoration of the visit the Virgin Mary made to her cousin Elizabeth, seemingly soon after the the Annunciation, because the Scripture says she “went with haste.” Elizabeth was also expecting a baby, the Holy Prophet, Forerunner and Baptist John.

Malcolm Guite has written a sonnet for the feast, which you can find in the anthology Sounding the Seasons. In the West the feast is kept in May.

THE VISITATION

Here is a meeting made of hidden joys
Of lightenings cloistered in a narrow place
From quiet hearts the sudden flame of praise
And in the womb the quickening kick of grace.
Two women on the very edge of things
Unnoticed and unknown to men of power
But in their flesh the hidden Spirit sings
And in their lives the buds of blessing flower.
And Mary stands with all we call ‘too young’,
Elizabeth with all called ‘past their prime’
They sing today for all the great unsung
Women who turned eternity to time
Favoured of heaven, outcast on the earth
Prophets who bring the best in us to birth.

-Malcolm Guite

Bearing that secret, ancient flame.

ELIZABETH TO HER COUSIN

After Jacob of Serug

Blessed are you, O Maiden; blest
The fruit which dwells within your womb,
Beloved in that holy rest
Whose secret comes to sacred bloom.
And blessed is this virgin birth
Which shall uproot sin from the earth.

Who grants this favor to me now,
That you should come, O Blessed One,
Bearing the great who is made low?
By his own will this thing is done.
The mother of a king, and yet,
It’s at my wooden door we’ve met.

Let every mouth speak out your praise,
And all the seraphim stand shaken.
Your womb contains the brilliant rays
That from a living flame shall waken
This world, whose sleep in sin-black night
Gives way before new life and light.

The gardener who clears the thorns;
A lion’s cub whose jaws shall roar
Louder than all of Joshua’s horns,
And drive all craven wolves before:
Such is the sun that all shall see
Arise from you as from the sea.

But who am I that you should come
Bearing the one who made the world,
Who is its savior and its sum,
And yet within you now lies curled?
I am unfit, Ancient of Days,
To welcome you or speak your praise.

But, Lady blest and full of grace,
I see your beauty and rejoice;
The radiant flush upon your face,
A living water in your voice,
Disclosing what alone you know,
That light and word within you grow.

No angel spoke this truth to me,
But he who grows within me stirred
The moment that my eyes could see
You, still far off, and my ears heard
Your call, as down the hill you came,
Bearing that secret, ancient flame.

-James Matthew Wilson