And thine brok’n arms
And thine brok’n chest
Thine broken face – don’t frown
Thine wither’d hands and red soaked hair
Thine stolen breath and tired eyes
Was it worth it?
Thine innocence forgotten
Thine purity ruin’d
Was it worth it?
Red and crimson
Like the rose
On a crisp Summer’s morn
“The Dream of the Virgin by Bolognese master Simone dei Crocefissi”
From mine life of monotony I falleth,
Mine eyes fail as I journey forth to a new world,
A world of adventure, promise and mystery
A world like nothing I know
I come alive hither, as I step forth,
My heart opens to the freedom I findth
In the hundred, streams of morrow and valleys of eventide
I verily breathe away expectation,
The demands of perfection no longer bind me,
My reeve is not known by all,
My fortune and inheritance not envied,
I am me, aye, who I am is who I am,
Anon to distrain I am pulled again,
Mine eyes flutter open and
The truth settleth in,
Nay, ‘tis life I leadth, ‘tis life I partake.
The Unicorn in Captivity (from the Unicorn Tapestries) http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/70007568
Ye ole’ steward oft swoon for sweet maiden,
May she doth not care for he as he for her.
She proclaimed, “make leave, sirrah, for I love thee not.”
Young fool, unawares of fair lady’s declaration, bid
Ye maiden “prithee, we meet thither, near yonder fields?”
Lovely maiden ne’r heard poor steward’s request.
He decreed, “I will see thee anon,” and off he fled to
The meadow oft filled with the sweetest of flowers.
Daft fellow awaited ye chaste lass in blissful blindness,
Ne’r wise to see his love would not follow.
As fair damsel dwelled in stronghold,
Gleeful steward remained in yonder field and queried,
“Verily, it is so my love doth forgot. Methinks not cruelly and I
Shall await upon her arrival.” And thither ole’ naïve boy sat for
Ages to come. In splendid state, in love, attending fair maiden.
Initial A with Scenes of Easter, 1320, by Nerius (from www.metmuseum.org)
T’was the Sunday after the most unfortunate day,
When Jesus’ soul returned to heaven to pray,
But His body remained on Earth to stay.
Three women approached in a state of gloom,
Only to find an angel waiting in His tomb,
With no body left but a wonderful perfume.
“Fear not dear women,
Back from the dead,
He has risen again!”
In disbelief, they rushed back to town,
Where along the way, they stumbled into Him in person,
And at His feet, they threw themselves down.
At the sight of their Saviour, the one they adored,
The despair and pain in their hearts were pared,
And their faith and love was once again restored.
As the daylight breaks,
The hammers of blinded workers quake,
The foundations of our small world doth shake,
But who doth know,
How high these towers shall climb,
How long they will stand,
Built not of clay, brick, and sand,
Built not with unified heart, but with mis-guided hand,
Will they cover this great expand,
Between cloud,sky,and land,
Between God, beast, and man
Christopher and the Infant Christ
Halt the Night
On a dark eve with’n the ploughland
A young villein and the child of a childwite
Found coarse to the death whispers of day
Where the crenellation on the crenal woth
Ever-so the childwite child cheer’d
Whilst the villein suppered frumenty
However though doth the two encounter
Hundredweight pack of wolves
Feigning life on thy pair
Timid to parchment not be so
Quick thee villein tract to plackart
Sending thy child to belfry salvation
Life lying lowe on the berm
And retrieving the blazon from border
What hath thou done to merit so?
Perchance the bodkin has not in thou favor’s been
No essoin to be assured in aversion of sou
Like villein like childwhite child
Dimless and lightless for God-given beams
Tesseract on a kindred firelight
Like light of the storm
And ferocious homage to the hilt
With strongest strike of merlon
Thy villein pierce thy heart of savage beast
On course to passage then resumed
Across the pole and beyond thee pontage
Reverence to the God and almighty being
Thy villein retrieve thy sallet
In honour thee sheriff present fifty sovereign
And in safely pavise contained
Thy childwite to thy child stood again
The men travel down
a long and windin’ path
until they have reach’d
the toiling work their god wreaked wrath
Hack away at th’bricks
they do build high into tow’rs
churches, dwellings
und’r their king they cow’r
He stands facing outer
the entrance to his masterpiece open
the guests enthralled
say they “O, to go inside we’re hoping'”
Royal palace town
royalty atop the peak
serfs th’ way down the hill
vassals lying to not be weak
Bluest sky, fair clouds
o’er the fine village
Bring the grains and corn
until ther’s spillage
The Baptism of Christ, ca. 1480–1490
Pupil of Veit Stoss
Cracow
Christ
Christ the Son of God kneeling upon his knees,
His cousin John baptizing him anew:
The most innocent renewing His purity;
Rising away sins unknown,
Simply one of the many who have come to be reborn.
The River of Jordan celestial waters bringing about endless new beginnings:
People from far and near,
People old and young,
Coming to repent in all their humbleness.
Reasons be it unknown to the delegation around,
Inside each soul, intentions accounted for.
Testimonies need not be known but to the one it belongs.
Christ such a prodigious figure,
Leading by act rather than His usual spoken tongue,
Showing the need for all to realize:
We all have our moments of faults,
Yet such doesn’t mean we can’t ever be forgiven.
Make haste, make haste,
To be like Christ, to be the exemplum.
Our time yet limited,
is like an hourglass of a millennium.
The Assumption of the Virgin by Bernardo Daddi
Yon followers of Jesus look for the blessed Mother, Yet she is nowhere to be found. Has thou died?
Nay, the Almighty has taketh thee to the heavens. Whole body and soul ascended to the sky, While sitting in a chair being carried by the angels.
The bright sun shines behind her, Illuminating her divine presence. As the blessed Virgin gazes adoun at her people, Her face stoic, a stick in hand, Ready to serve as the mother of mankind.
