In my imperfection
I offer you the perfect.
Full of Grace,
Take up my cause.
Gracious God,
You have prepared grace
And holiness of life
For all men ,
Yet we are not ready
For Your wonders.
We delay.
We play with idols,
And take for granted
The universe that engulfs us,
As though it founded itself
And raised its own pillars.
We swim in a sea of plenty,
As though it is infinite.
Fool that I am,
May the Wise Virgin,
Trim my lamp
To light my way.
Holy Vessel of all graces
Waiting in your labor
To bring us forth,
And give us the Divine Life
Held in your treasury
For the Day
The Promised One will descend from heaven
Into my soul,
And carry me,
With all your children
To that place of safe repose.
The imperfect, washed clean,
In the waters of New Birth,
Rising perfect with resplendent Light,
As swaddling and infusion,
From El Shaddai,
the God of the Great Breast,
And the womb of the chased Virgin,
Immaculate,
Which brought forth Christ
In the unity of Trinity,
Receive again bodies
As splendid as their souls.
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