But as eons passed and nightfall went

Virtue started to demand

A Holy start, an end of Dark

When Light would follow souls and hearts.

And though some violence remained

As it had been before He came

Good-humour, love milled winter's cold

And equaled Darkness, sowing calm.

However, ask me, in the light

Of what today I have remind

-ed you, is calm all that's true?

Or is there light beyond that rule

For light, the shine that follows Thee 

- spirit Fine that rids of weak

The merry in a glass of wine

That Jesus drank before the Night.

To Dark, the spirit of all Evil

Why Light ought be completely equal

To, the demons that it holds

To the hollow of forlorn?

You ask me this, hands intertwined

Your heart, per second, beating twice

Why should the Dark mill all the Light?

Why should we breathe when we will die?

I took a breath, then I replied

While sitting in a chair of mine

Beside some mountain snow outside

Enjoying briskness of the ice:

"Light and Dark, they form a chain

While hate and love feelings remain

There is no reason to disdain

Since life isn't lived in vain.

When Virgin Mary birthed the Lord 

Accepted nine months without woe 

She almost left her dear own home

She carried Him, she willed to risk

Her life despite the highest stakes.

And her husband was quite angered

The Virgin might have just been blamed

But soon enough, there came an Angel

Telling them about His grace.

The family accepted Him

Despite the chance to commit sin.

They could have sinned, have wronged the Lord

But they had faith, before His birth!

Why I have told you of this myth

Is that before God, it'd be Dark

But love can also lurk in Dark.

Virgin Mother loved her Son.

Though our fate is yet unclear

I present the simple mere

Suggestion to the point of fight

And how beside calm, there is Life.

"The Dark, and Light, would fold below

The Heaven doors and blend in One.

The symmetry of rising Suns.

The eight infinite of the Dove.

But in between, a fold appears -

What is this mystery that seems

To trap our hearts in sin of Love

And install faith into our hearts?

That fold is not at all a sin.

In fact, it is a new found win

A light much brighter than the Sun

It is on faith of which I run.

It is the prevail of the Light

That represents the Will of Life

When Virgin carried in her Womb

Her divine Son, the One she loved

She chose Him, despite sin around.

She chose Love, Faith and the Love for Ground."

This is answer to a query

That a poem on Saint Mary

Had aroused in me, some is placed below;

Paula Meehan wrote the verse.

"The Statue of the Virgin at Granard Speaks."

On a night like this I remember the child
who came with fifteen summers to her name,
and she lay down alone at my feet
without midwife or doctor or friend to hold her hand
and she pushed her secret out into the night,
far from the town tucked up in little scandals,
bargains struck, words broken, prayers, promises,
and though she cried out to me in extremis
I did not move,
I didn't lift a finger to help her,
I didn't intercede with heaven,
nor whisper the charmed word in God's ear.

On a night like this I number the days to the solstice
and the turn back to the light.
O sun,
centre of our foolish dance,
burning heart of stone,
molten mother of us all,
hear me and have pity.