A Prayer to Our Lady of Guadalupe

Holy Mary, Blessed Lady,

It is winter in our land.

The nights are long and dark,

The days cold and grey.

Skeletal trees scratch the sky,

Their leaves withered at our feet.

Death reigns supreme—

Or so it seems.

Some 500 years ago,

On another barren, winter day,

You came as Mother of Life

To rescue your children

From demonic forces

That held them as slaves of death.

You came, not with violence,

As did the conquering Spaniards,

But with a Mother’s springtime

Of arresting beauty,

Of compelling kindness.

Mother, come again to us.

Dark, demonic forces threaten,

Inspiring fear, demanding worship.

They lurk in Amazonian jungles,

In shiny offices of potentates,

In ivy-league universities,

Prowling even amid the pillars

Of cathedrals and basilicas.

Blessed Lady, Holy Mary,

You who crush the feathered serpent,

Save your children from

His fear, his empty promises,

From his winter’s death.

Bring us your Son,

The Word made flesh in your womb,

The new and everlasting springtime

Of love and peace and joy.