Sunday, April 12, 2015

Roses from Mary

Roses from Mary (A poem for Our Lady of Guadalupe)

Roses imprinted upon rough cactus fiber cloth, thus bears the image of our Holy Mother of Heaven—
And has for nearly five-hundred years—
Roses given to Juan Diego, in 1531, turned into the image of Mary, the mother to the Son of God, and Son of Man!
No cracks, no candle smoke fading upon this image.
It lives, the image lives and the colors remain as is; as they always were—century after century; nothing more miraculous than that—
(Within the forehead of the image, is the persona of a bearded man with eyes closed, that could very well be the image within the shroud…
At different distances as in nature, the appearance changes!)
Nothing has hindered it: acid, heat, bombs— weather or alike—
The stars on her tunic, are that of the image of the winter sky, December 12, 1531, when Mary gave those Roses to Juan Diego!
Those Stars on her tunic, are viewed from outside of heaven’s gates looking down (reversed); no less than a snapshot of heaven and earth!
And should you look deep, even deeper into her eyes, you will discover the image of Juan Diego, and many more of those folks who were of Diego’s time!
The face of Mary, is ageless, centuries have filled her eyelids.
Her skin changes colors from Indian Olive, to a European natural complexion, you need only step back a bit, and refocus—
And the image remains day and night at 98.6 Degrees Fahrenheit… the human body temperature—
The image is a message for those far-off days (perhaps for today too), to the pagan world who worshiped the stars and the sun and earth and the moon, as gods: that she, and her Son, were above them, all were under their heels, — and hence, all those false gods in Mexico were no more than a false fabrication, of untruth.

No: 4749/4-7-2015 / Note: The author and his wife visited Mexico City, in 2002, and went to the church to see the image of “The Lady of Guadalupe” so this poem is long overdue.  Information extracted, and inspired by Brother Peter Diamond, of “The Most Holy Family Monastery” and put into poetic prose.   What has not been mentioned to my surprise, is why no one has, or at least Brother Diamond, not mentioned, the reflection, or replication of the image I see in the forehead of Mary, of what I believe to be a bearded man, whose eyes are closed, much like the Shroud. Of Turin, it is as plain as the shadows under her eyes (inside the image of is on her forehead are hieroglyphics)