April 24, 2009

My Journey to God

Lo, I Am Coming

Such is the weight of sin
Bearing down in our times
Like a dark cloud
On oppressed man,
That the light of Faith,
The consolation of Hope,
And the lifeblood of Charity
Will all grow cold
Unless You come, O Lord,
In clouds of Glory,
With power and majesty enrobed.

Lo, I am coming.
Have I not told you so?
Rejoice and be glad
As you wait in joyful hope.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

By Conor Ward

(Conor Ward of Ireland sent this poem to his sister, St. Rose of Lima parishioner Mary Gannon of Franklin, to share with Criterion readers. She died on March 31, and his poem is printed in her memory.)

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