at this, the temple of our Blessed Mother, ever fertile;
and he delivered unto me this charge:
“Have you genuflected at her altar, embossed by the ancient prophets decrying her glory?
Have you witnessed the desecration of her holy tabernacle?
THIS! Our consecrated sanctuary from whence stepped the children of her creation?”
‘Come to me, prodigal sinners all!’ cries she.
Baptize yourselves in the morning surf, and bathe in the rapturing embrace of the Father as Phoebus Apollo chauffeurs him across the ageless sky.
Have you stood before the matchless firmament, clothed in her nightgown of heavenly light, and beheld the ancients enshrined in her tapestry?
Have you prostrated yourself in reverence before her holy rivers,
rejoiced in adulation with your soaring brothers and sisters,
or made confession at the feet of the sleeping giants bidding you
“come, and be cleansed of all unrighteousness”?
“Then for God’s sake, go and do it!”
Return, you prodigal sinners,
from your false idols and monuments to desolation, and be made whole again at this, the temple of our Blessed Mother, ever fertile.
Four our Mother bids you -- “come home.”
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This piece draws upon elements of transcendentalism and Catholic rites of initiation and was inspired by “The Call of the Wild” by Robert William Service and “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus. It is meant to serve as a modern appeal to humanity to “repent” for the egregious sin of neglecting the Earth, which is mother to us all. It calls for each of us to step out and immerse ourselves in vast wilderness and dense forests, and in so doing to cleanse ourselves to be reborn as children of our common mother.