CALLED BY THE VOICE

 

Called by the Voice

Jesus Christ called His friend by name that day,
Lazarus rose as death was turned away;
From shadowed depths, from silent night,
He stepped again into the light.

The crowd stood still in trembling awe,
At what their very eyes then saw;
The grave undone, its hold released,
By Him Who is the Life and Priest.

So too shall we, when life has passed,
Be called to rise at last, at last;
No need for fear, nor dark despair,
For Christ Himself shall meet us there.

Yet Lazarus, restored to breath,
Had walked the hidden halls of death;
And life anew he learned to live,
Each simple act a gift to give.

The sunlight warm, the voices near,
All changed by what he’d known so clear;
The echo of that mighty call,
Still stirred his heart beyond it all.

O mystery deep, O wonder bright,
That Love can conquer death’s long night;
How great is God, through all our days,
Worthy of endless song and praise.

Then let us not within hearts die,
Nor let the soul in silence lie;
But let God’s holy Will take part,
And dwell alive in every heart.

With joy embrace each given day,
Walk gently in the rightful way;
Delight in beauty, pure within -
The world’s fair charm, untouched by sin.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/EvYQrYvrToU

With thanks to youtube

VOICES OF THE AMMAS

 

Voices of the Ammas 

They left the rush of crowded days, the markets loud and wide,
And journeyed to the desert’s hush where God alone would guide.
The early mothers, strong in grace, in silence made their home,
Where hearts grew vast in hidden prayer, though outward lives seemed lone.

In caves of dust and burning sun, in cells both bare and small,
They learned to hear the still, soft Voice that gently speaks to all.
Through fasting deep and vigils long, through tears both pure and wise,
They fixed their gaze on Christ alone, their treasure and their prize.

The Ammas spoke with quiet strength, their counsel clear and true,
To souls who sought the narrow path and longed their God to view.
Their words, like wells in desert lands, still draw the thirsty near,
A living stream of holy truth that echoes year by year.

They call to us within our hearts, beyond the world’s loud claim:
“Become a desert in your soul, and kindle there His flame.
Be anchorites in secret depths, though streets around you roar,
Hold fast the Word in silent faith, and seek His Face the more.”

For we who walk the marketplace, with hurried steps and eyes,
Are summoned to that inward place where deeper treasure lies.
To live the wisdom that they gave, with steadfast hearts made whole,
And carry Christ, the Living Word, to every seeking soul.

O mothers of the ancient way, your witness still remains,
A lamp within our modern night, a balm for hidden pains.
Teach us to dwell with God within, though outward paths we roam -
Till every heart, made still in Him, becomes His desert home.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT and CN Whittle "Living water in the desert cave" 

SOLUS CHRISTUS

 

SOLUS CHRISTUS

Upon the clouds in radiant light, Christ rides the heavens high,
A crown upon His gentle brow, all glory in His Eye.
A white horse bears our King of kings through vast eternal air,
All the saints in garments white stand gathered round Him there.

Beside Him stands the angel bright, with standard lifted strong,
A banner cast upon the wind, the truth down ages long:
Solus Christus - Christ alone - the saving, sovereign Name,
The Lamb once slain, now risen Lord, forevermore the same.

We follow Him, our Messiah, through shadow, storm, and flame,
With hearts made still in trust and faith, we call upon His Name.
For He alone has borne our sin, has opened heaven’s door,
And leads us onward, step by step, to life forevermore.

Let not another voice arise to cloud the truth we sing,
No fleeting word of passing earth can crown another king.
For in the marketplace of souls, where many call and rail,
We lift our gaze to Christ alone, our hope will never fail.

All worship, honour, praise belong to God enthroned above,
Who sent His Son to ransom us in sacrificial love.
In Him our future firmly rests, our endless destiny - 
O Christ, our Lord, our guiding Light, our all eternity.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "Solus Christus"

HEART-STONE OF CHRIST

 

                                                                                                          Freepik

Heart-Stone of Christ

In quiet hours when earth grows still,
And bends at last to Heaven’s will,
A whisper stirs within the soul;
A Presence there that makes us whole.

Not distant, cold, or far above,
But near to us in tender love;
In hidden moments, soft and clear,
We wake and find that God is near.

We walk with Him through passing days,
In simple thoughts, in work, in praise;
And slowly, through His guiding Light,
Our hearts are formed in what is right.

For on the mount His voice once rang,
Where truth like living water sprang;
There mercy, meekness, hearts made pure,
Became the path both strong and sure.

And as we climb that sacred height,
Through shadowed vale or morning bright,
We bend beside the dusty sod,
To find a sign that speaks of God:

A rust-red stone, in heart’s own shape,
Time-worn by wind, by years’ escape;
We lift it up, we clear its face,
To hold it close in love’s embrace.

A token of Christ’s Love so deep,
A gift our weary souls may keep;
Through winding years, through joy and pain,
Its silent warmth doth still remain.

In that dear love, our lives are changed,
No longer distant, lost, estranged;
For every soul we come to see
As held in sacred dignity.

Our human bonds grow every day,
With depth from God's own loving way;
A quiet grace in all we share,
With sense of God’s own Presence there.

In fellowship our hearts unite,
Drawn onward by His gentle Light;
A living Church, 'mid joy and strife,
Made one within His hidden Life.

And when at last life’s course is run,
When fading falls the setting sun,
We cross the line no eyes can see,
Into love’s vast eternity -

No fear shall claim the final breath,
For He is Lord of life and death;
Companion, Saviour, ever near,
The One we love now drawing near.

Poem inspired by article "Our living with God" by GMA Jansen (Fr Norbert OP)

https://sahistory.org.za/sites/default/files/archive-files4/PvJan67.pdf

With thanks to sahistory.org.za

FROM STORM TO SACRAMENT: SONG OF ST NORBERT

Norbert of Xanten once laughed where courtiers dine,
In halls of ease and cups of wine;
A carefree heart, a life of light,
Untroubled days and festal night.

Yet through the sky a storm was hurled,
A flash that split his gentle world;
Cast to the earth, his soul laid bare,
He met our God in trembling prayer.

Like Paul was struck on Damascus road,
Norbert rose beneath a different load;
No longer seeking passing flame,
But Christ the Lord the Living Name.

From courtly song to sacred plea,
He walked in holy poverty;
His voice now burned with truth made bright,
A shepherd calling souls to light.

O Eucharist, his heart’s deep fire,
His soul’s delight, his one desire!
No distant sign, no shadowed grace,
But Christ Himself in time and space.

He preached, he taught, with fervent breath,
Of Love that conquers sin and death;
At every Mass, with reverent art,
He placed the Lord before each heart.

In Premonstratensian Order’s holy band,
He formed a faithful, fervent stand;
To live, to serve, to kneel, adore -
And draw from Christ an endless store.

O soul, behold the altar fair,
The King of Glory hidden there;
Let not thy gaze grow dim, routine -
For Love Divine lies veiled, unseen.

Come, let Christ enter, still and true,
To touch thy heart and make thee new;
To turn thy fear, thy grief, thy night,
Into a flame of golden light.

From inner heart where silence grows,
Where secret grace in stillness flows,
Go forth into the market’s cry,
Beneath the wide and watchful sky.

And carry there, in word and deed,
The Eucharistic Love we need;
That every soul we meet may see
Christ’s living Presence, shining free.

O Norbert, guide our hearts today,
To love the Lord in hidden way;
Till all we are and all we do
Proclaim: Beloved, He is true.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "St Norbert celebrating Mass in Gothic church" 

THE CASTLE AND THE FRIEND

In cloistered halls of stone and prayer,
A soul arose with vision rare;
Teresa of Avila, with fervent flame,
Softly came the world to claim.

Not sword nor crown her path defined,
But depths unveiled within the mind;
For there she saw, with mystic eye,
A castle where the soul draws nigh.

A shining keep of crystal light,
With many rooms both dark and bright;
And in its heart, beyond all strife,
Dwells Jesus Christ, the source of life.

She called us in from restless days,
From scattered thoughts and anxious ways;
“To enter in,” her voice still pleads,
“And tend with care your soul’s deep needs.”

For though the world may roar and shake,
And trials rise for faith to break,
She knew the storms, she felt the strain,
Yet clung to Christ through every pain.

Through illness, doubt, and piercing night,
She walked by faith and not by sight;
In her weakness, frail yet true,
God’s strength like hidden fire grew.

“Pray, trust, and learn,” her counsel rings,
“Accept the cross that each day brings;
But more than all, hold fast this art - 
Be Christ’s dear friend with all your heart.”

Not distant Lord nor shadowed King,
But One to whom our souls may cling;
A Friend who walks the narrow way,
Who lights our path from day to day.

So when our burdens weigh us low,
Our tears like silent rivers flow,
Remember her, who walked before,
And found in Christ a boundless store.

The castle waits, its doors unsealed,
Its hidden chambers yet revealed;
Go inward now, with courage bright -
To meet your Friend in living Light.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle "St Teresa before the radiant castle" 

MATER POPULI FIDELIS: - AT THE FOOT OF THE CROSS WE REMAIN

 

At the foot of the Cross we remain

In quiet pews where candles softly burn,
The faithful read, hearts within them turn;
A title loved, once spoken without blame,
Now questioned with a sense of shame.

“O Mother dear,” their whispered prayers rise,
“Have we then loved thee wrongly in God's Eyes?”
Yet still they see thee standing, steadfast, near,
Beneath the cross, where redemption conquered fear.

There with Jesus Christ in agony and grace,
Saint John beside thee in that hallowed place,
Thou wast given as Mother, tender, true -
“Behold thy son” - and we were given too.

Through centuries thy children learned thy name,
In love, not pride, in reverence, not shame;
Not equal thou, but closest to His side,
A Mother’s heart where sacrifice abide.

Those who toil where burning sun beats down,
Who bear the Cross in field, in street, in town,
Still pray with thee, their patroness and guide,
At Calvary’s foot; where redemption doth abide.

O can they now from such devotion part,
When it has shaped the rhythm of the heart?
When popes and prayers and ages long have sown
This filial love the faithful call their own?

Though language trembles, shifts, or bends,
Deeper truth no passing voice suspends:
That thou, O Mother, in thy hidden way,
Dost lead thy children still, from day to day.

For where else shall thy weary children go,
Who learned thy love through centuries of woe?
The cross remains, its shadow ever wide -
Thou art there, still standing at His side.

Image courtesy of Chatgpt with CN Whittle "At the foot of the Cross"