Poem: “To the Immaculate Virgin, On a Winter Night” by Thomas Merton

 

Lady, the night is falling and the dark

Steals all the blood from the scarred west.

The stars come out and freeze my heart

With drops of untouchable music, frail as ice

And bitter as the new year’s cross.

 

Where in the world has any voice

Prayed to you, Lady, for the peace that’s in your power?

In a day of blood and many beatings

I see the governments rise up, behind the steel horizon,

And take their weapons and begin to kill.

 

Where in the world has any city trusted you?

Out where the soldiers camp the guns begin to thump

And another winter time comes down

To seal our years in ice.

The last train cries out

And runs in terror from this farmer’s valley

Where all the little birds are dead.

 

The roads are white, the fields are mute

There are no voices in the wood

And trees make gallows up against the sharp-eyed stars.

Oh where will Christ be killed again

In the land of these dead men?

 

Lady, the night has got us by the heart

And the whole world is tumbling down.

Words turn to ice in my dry throat

Praying for a land without prayer.

 

Walking to you on water all winter

                        In a year that wants more war.