Gabriel Carter
Volume 4
I wander through the lonely halls, my sullen eyes downcast.
My heart borne down with beating sorrow for the race that fell.
And at our foolish detrimental gaff I stand aghast,
For deeds which our own hands have wrought unlatched the gates of Hell.
So dwelling on this tragedy I wander ‘bout alone
Until at last upon my path a ray of heaven shone,
And God before my longing eyes made our salvation known!
A light begotten from the vivid elegance of art.
The silence of the painting chants a chorus not for ears.
Articulation angels sing is only heard in heart,
Where what but awe can be expressed and humble lowly fears.
A lordly angel, he reveals the God-will from the shrouds,
A herald of the king of kings, a vast resounding voice,
In blue and white with wings of grace he soars, his feet on clouds.
Descending he annunciates the mighty Godhead’s choice.
To whom was it that this prestigious angel’s message came?
A king for sure or man of might by whom all men might rise.
But neither, not a man, but ‘twas a Virgin without shame.
This humble girl was heaven’s answer to our anguished cries.
Oh Virgin Mary purer than the holy lilies white,
Of all the race, oh you alone, exist without the taint.
The providential hand of God chose you to be the saint
Through whom He all mankind redeems, repairs our wrong aright.
Oh blessed inspiration from this timeless portrait hailed.
The silence seems to sing aloud with laud, “O highest bless’d
Who never fell, most bless’d in whom the grace of God resides!”
For even as they sing in you the Lord of Lords abides.
And thus the maid was by the angel of the Lord addressed,
“The king doth choose to dwell in you, his sanctuary veiled.”
The pious humble Virgin pondered in her heart the song.
She trusted in the will of God, In meekness bowed her head.
The Ghost of God shone down on her, the angels round her throng.
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Thy will be done.” she said.
And thence occurred the Incarnation: valiant saving grace
Assumed the form of flesh and blood within the Virgin's womb.
Creator of the world, a babe that we might see your face.
In such a way did You come down to free us from the tomb.
The graceful image sows the seeds of wonder in my soul,
As I reflect upon the fact that Mary’s “Yes” has changed
The hopeless lot of all mankind, once broken, now made whole.
From hence on I shall give myself to God whom all arranged.