Today, as I pick flowers,
From the garden of life,
In which You have
Chosen to plant me,
By the gift,
You have granted me,
From Your Most Holy Cross,
In giving me
Your very own Mother,
I press each blossom,
Fresh and humble,
Into the open
Hand of Mother Mary.

I await,
With great expectation,
The magnificent bouquet,
The Woman is arranging,
As she gathers
In Her Immaculate Heart,
All the prayers,
Works and sacrifices,
Proffered by the saints,
Poured out in faith
Through the ages.

May the sweet aroma
Scent the hope
Of this day,
And please You,
You, Who,
In the Love,
That brought You
To Your Cross,
Receive my heart’s desire,
As You accepted
The precious tears
Of the Magdalen,
And the sweet anointing oil,
Lavished upon You,
In repentant sorrow.

You, Who love eternally,
Those who love much,
In return for Your Divine
And undying forgiveness,
Press these,
All abloom,
To Your Most Sacred Heart.

Copyright 2013 Joann Nelande
All rights reserved