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October Lady
by Dr Joe McCarroll
October Lady,
With your berries strung like beads
All along the hedgerow
Where the hopping blackbird feeds,
You tell the berries on the bushes,
One by one they fall,
Each one marked by a drop of rain,
A toll kept of them all.
A falling berry
Is a rising tree.
You donât believe it?
Just wait and see!
A falling berry
Is a rising tree.
You donât believe it?
Wait and see!
The berries on the yew tree overhead
Catch the sun translucently,
Each one glows like a bulb of rose
Strung on a Christmas tree.
Wild wind cuts through the hawthorn tree
Red berries fall like flood,
Mother of God, it looks so odd,
Like itâs raining drops of blood.
October Lady,
With your ten-a-penny tears
Your Son is set for the rise and fall
Of many down the years.
He dies with everyone who falls,
So with Him they may rise,
And you die each time He does,
The tears say, in your eyes.
October Lady,
The berries fall and seeds,
And the apples fall and the nuts fall,
You tell them all like beads,
And the blood-red leaves, and green and gold,
Too many to keep my eyes on,
And even the sun seems all undone,
Right down on the horizon.
October Lady,
When the berry falls and dies,
The truth is only seen through the tears
Of mercy in your eyes.
A berry falling
Is a rising tree.
You donât believe it?
Just wait and see!
For Marjorie
A rosary as we contemplate the Autumnal Mysteries
A meditation on Luke 2.29-35
2nd November 2006
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