Mary saw the shining reflection under created things:
the stones she swept were jewels uncovered,
the dust particles whirling in the gentle air
were tiny birds with luminous wings.
The sounds of birth and death, she did not avoid:
she heard the converging
which did not make a static and sterile prayer,
which did not make a static and sterile prayer,
but rather a song, golden, unalloyed.
Being sang the recesses of her soul, she heard the hymn:
on the swaying donkey covered by glinting dust,
she heard the shining silver reeds
as the edges of the world curled toward Bethlehem.
paintings 1) Le divin apprenti 2) Alma mater, by Virginie Demont-Breton
