Saturday, May 02, 2009

My Madonna Of Santhome

The lady greets with the warmest of smiles,
as if she’s saying, I know you boy.
I stand charmed in front of her,
awe struck by her beauty and grace.

I stop to say hi maam, mother to all,
she ruffles my hair and says it's all fine.
From her humble eyes one could never tell,
she holds the key to the entire world.

Her eyes have the kinda depth,
which makes the oceans seem a wading pool.
Blue rays; peace she gives to one and all,
who kneel before her in honest faith.

Her folded hands once held,
the King, promised to man by God.
Queen mother of the highest she is,
but spends time down here with little us.

Covered in gold she is of course,
but the real glow is from her purest self.
Virgin mother to the God in flesh,
no wonder she lights up the dark.

She comforts me, the afflicted one,
and agrees to love me, pray for me.
This even though she knows for sure,
I've fought her Son, been rude to him.

Around my neck I carry her charm,
Rosary from the Holy Land.
I've never used it to sing her praise,
but she doesn't mind, she pats my head.

“Come on child, be at peace;
I'm the mother to all of you.
Naughty one you are I know,
but I care for you as I did for Him.”

I kneel down and bow my head,
and my feet get wet from salty drops.
Tears of joy it was this day,
I'm in love with this Lady of Hope.

Lady of Mylapore for the rest of them,
but for me she is Madonna dear.
One who leaves me to be myself,
yet love me for what I am.

I needn't pray to her; she hears my soul,
“You just be good,” she told me so.
Please touch me now, Oh beauty of heaven,
and my heart sings out – “Salve Regina”.

(Verses for Our Lady of Mylapore at Santhome Church in Chennai)