Poems by Sr Mary McCreath OP

Day Ending – Izeli
(Written in 1973 after meditation, sitting on the balcony at Izeli)

Jacaranda in full bloom, 
points its branches to the setting sun. 
Gentle breeze rains blossoms from on high 
to carpet the earth with their purple dye.  Heavy flapping of the cawing gulls 
swallows in pairs dance in a race 
Bright green light green shadows lengthening 
White disk with a shimmering face.  Dark green treetops turning yellow green 
Olive lit hillside now to be seen 
Tiny butterflies fluttering bye 
Dust like dots of the minute fly 

Here I sit and drink in the life 
of nature and creatures 
as the day is ending 
I marvel and wonder at the life I see, 
in a perfect rhythm of eternal blending.

Mary Mc Creath

 

Sunset Izeli
(written in 1973 after meditation sitting on a bench near where the animals were kept on Izeli farm.)

Light green, bright green, 
bronze sun glittering. 
Hoot coo, twittering.
Blue sky, dark sky, 
night awakening. 
Cool air, closed flowers, 
day forsaking. 

Clouds, low wispy, 
edged with light, 
fire disc shimmering. 
Down, 
down, and down 
out of sight. 

Bright horizon where there was a sun, 
silhouette trees there when it’s gone. 
Light edged clouds turning grey, 
Night comes slowly at the end of the day. 

Grunt from the pigsty here in sight, 
Birds in the blue-sky flicker in flight. 
Flies buzz around and get in the way, 
Cows low contented munching the hay. 

Leaves move gently, sway in the breeze, 
Gull sounds moving over fields and trees. 
Clouds turn golden from the sun that’s gone, 
High pitched whistle of a bird’s 
even ‘song.
Mary Mc Creath

Santa Maria Denver USA
(Written in 1978 after an outing while on sabbatical in Denver)

High hills, low vale 
Green trees pointing 
Blue sky, grey sky 
People jaunting 

Long trails, short trails 
firs and aspen 
tall grass, old stones 
people basking 

Still lake, smooth lake 
Boats for rowing 
Frisbee, baseball 
People glowing. 

Water gushing, swirling, birling 
Wet rock, dry rock, curving hill 
Birds singing 
In cool air 
People still. 

Bark, stones 
Path that wanders 
On and on 
Bridge that 
Crosses water 
Fountain that wets the dry stone, 
Showing that it has another colour. 

Cloud shadow 
Darkening Santa Maria – 
For a moment. 

Stone scattered, 
Bush scattered, 
Tree scattered, 
Hillside,
Receiving 
the birds, 
people who come to touch you, 
climb you. 

Tall, silent, dark green 
Trees 
Segregating the skyline
Gifts of today
Thank you

Mary Mc Creath

The Rosary
(Wednesday 30th April 2008)
Five strings of ten joined in a ring
A cross upon which Jesus died
Three bead reminders of the Trinity
From whence he came.
An instrument to help me
Keep in touch
With God who came to earth
And lived like me.
A set of beads
Arranged in groups of ten
With one apart.

To open life with
All its mystery of one, Who lived and died
Upon this earth
Yet rose to live eternally.

Each group of ten
Would hold me in its sway.
To pierce a sorrow, joy or glorious time
Of one whose heart I lived within
And one who lived in mine.

For forty years and more I plied these beads
To touch the mysteries they could reveal.
Then one day I put them on the side
To live the mysteries in which I now abide.

In every birth, in every joy I see
The birth and joy of one who captured me
To live with him as each new bright day dawns
And die with him as each new bright day dawnsAnd die with him in every night that comes
To rise in hope with each new dawning day
No matter what the previous one did bring
To look at life eternal on this earth
And gasp in wonder as it doth unfold.
Mary Mc Creath

Have You Noticed
(Written after meditation sitting on my balcony in 2013)

Have you noticed
How branches of trees, 
Dance and sway, 
in the wind?

When the wind is gone, 
the tree is still and silent. 

The wind stirs life into them 
Passes and is gone. 

What stirs life into me, 
moves me to dance and sway?
Mary Mc Creath

No Leaves No Birds
(Written in 2013, after reflection on the tree outside my balcony)

The birds have 
fled and nestlings 
Flown away 
No company and 
all-alone am I. 

I stand here 
With all my beauty gone 
Uncovered, naked 
Facing winter’s 
Cold. 

New strength 
I draw from deep within 
my roots 
Till winter goes 

Then I’ll again 
Be dressed in fairest green. 
My leaves will grow 
and flowers will bloom again. 

The weaverbirds 
will come and make their home 
Till fledglings fly once more 
To warmer clime. 

And I another 
winter sleep will take 
resting alone 
no leaves, no birds
Mary Mc Creath