Tidings of Great Joy

In Ireland, there is green that never fades

and caves that gasp against the waves.

Years ago, I stood before a portal tomb

and dreamed of you, a vision who

would one day dwell within my womb.

You were born on the first day of spring,

arising through the light of the sun.

That night, I heard the angels sing

a luminous song until the dawn:

“Give glory to God for this precious one!”

Through mist you came, the vast unknown,

and took my hand, my blood, my bone.

As one, we dreamed in color so bright

that rainbows blinded all my sight.

In you, I knew I found my home.

I arise today through firmness of rock,

your headstone cold beneath my hand.

Tears chill my cheeks, this grief

like rain against winter sand,

And pain—and dark—and blue without end.

You were the sunshine of God’s love,

as if He meant to say,

Forever have I loved you,

Never, never go away.

You were the blooming flowers of His joy,

a gift with each spring day,

a light to burn in darkness, which

never goes away.

In heaven, there is green that never fades

and gardens that cannot die

and angels that sing of springtime

and give glory to God on high.

On earth, I arise through the light of sun

and speak your name with broken tongue.

In heaven, you play in gardens bright

which will never know the touch of night—

You dance through blooms that never die

and whisper that you’re by my side—

that even though you could not stay,

our love can never go away.

I’ve never told you how you saved my life.

How I caught you and cradled you

As we became two, crying and sighing,

“I know, baby, Mama feels the same,”

alive with joy, afire with pain.

You were born in the wake of grief

In shadow, in silence, white leaf of spring

Ending, then beginning, solace and wing

Soft whispers spinning, thrumming and numb

Gray night undimming, stark mind undone.

By day so bright you sang moon songs,

Cooing and calling an infant’s longing.

Aching but torn, my heart reached for you,

Hope newly born, loss still so near;

Parted from one, second yet so dear.

Night followed night, and I listened to your breath

And swallowed my fear, my hopes, my regrets.

What-ifs and what-mights crawled down wet cheeks,

Bright eyes met with morning, tiny fingers clasped tight,

You held my guttering soul and pulsed it alight. 

Still stumbling, yet crawling, I took joy in you,

Until shock and terror returned to quake anew.

Small and alone, I watched them shake heads

Walking yet falling, I heard as they said,

“Your baby is blind,” your fate one dark word.

What do the sightless see in their dreams?

Angels and lightning and beauty unseen?

I think you see your sister, dancing through flowers.

You came straight from heaven, powerful, yet blind,

To tell me how suffering redeemed all mankind.

Yesterday, you took off your glasses to give me angel kisses,

Swift smiles, passing pouts, secret songs—laughing wishes.

You read poems and books and love songs for little bears,

your speech growing day by day, as if you mean to say,

Forever have I loved you; never, never go away.

More than three years have passed,

And you teach me day by day

To stop asking and learn to listen—

To turn my yearning into prayer. 

So show me how to dream, my dear one;

Teach me how to pray. 

Open my sight to see such light

That can never go away. 

The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary;

His voice, like a sword, left her bereaved

And she conceived of the Holy Spirit.

Sunlit with flame, Gabriel came to proclaim,

God now with us, Emmanuel His name. 

You were born in the light of the sun

(O come, o come, immaculate one!)

On Mary’s day, in Advent flame,

You came to bring us hope so bright

That fear departed, and all turned white.

Three years ago, at your sister’s tomb,

I dreamed of you, a vision who

Could someday dwell within my womb.

Light upon light, you came through the mist,

Through blood and through bone, thunderous and swift.

That night, I heard the angels sing

a luminous song until the dawn:

“Give glory to God for this precious one!”

Because you live, I will strive anew

Walk forth and try, evangelize with you.

Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord.

Blood red, snow skin, attached by a cord

Be it done to me according to thy word

You were with God, and through God,

Until I heard your first cry.

A Savior was born, who came forth to die,

To show us how breath, flesh and bone

Can make the deaf hear and give sight to the blind,

Can defeat mourning and death with the sign of the cross

And leaving grief behind, make life grow from loss.

One day, I will tell you the story of your sisters,

But until it comes, I will shower you with kisses

And glory in your eyes, your touch, and your smell

Milk-sweet, such quiet, your hand clasping mine

We nurse as we rock, our need yet entwined. 

A creche sits silent beneath dim light,

The word made flesh under star so bright

A baby boy came through dark of night

And dwelt among us, to bring us sight,

To bring us tidings of great joy. 

Of my three girls, one could not stay.

The second taught me how to pray.

The third was born in light of day. 

Each one, my miracles

That can never fade.