![]() Note on Eileen Doster: EILEEN DOSTER - is a painter, poet, early childhood educator, and community gardener who attended the School of Visual Arts in the wild days of graffiti art and East Village galleries, where she continues to live with her 3 children and show her art. Her studio is located in The Brooklyn Navy Yard. She can be contacted at - [email protected] or on Instagram eileendosternyc Love Poem to St Anne Patroness of miners and of women in labor of all those whose faces are smudged with dirt and pain --not heaven, You go down into the depths where the barren womb cries To mine the gold of Christ the silver of Mary. In this painting it is you with your little girl the rosary already pre-figured in your hands A child, deaf mute and blind led Charlemagne to your relics, down into a long forgotten crypt in Southern France. Home of the troubadours There, where St Lazarus the friend of your grandson Jesus who called him forth from the tomb brought your bones to rest And a child lead them through the dark night, lit from within, through the womb of the earth to find you at the ground zero of our being Your blessings on all who go down into the pit. Like your grandson, there is no place so deep with grieving where you will fail to meet us Mother of the cave Mother of those who cry out for the seed of grace You stare out beyond your child Mary out toward the foot of the cross Did you stand with her in her hour of greatest sorrow? and when your grandson descended into hell Did he find you there, comforting the prophets? You made a place for heaven even in the pit of hell because for those who love so greatly, the fire does not consume, It is restored to the seraph's unending light. Wherever you are, heaven becomes the body of Christ consumed under the sign of affliction. Not hell fire, but the fire of the Seraph angels who gaze directly on the face of God. who burn for all eternity not in agony, but in joy where we think no love can ever be born You come, holding your daughter, touching us with your quiet and persistent strength, so that miners with the richest bass voices sing your praise as they go down into the pit Anne, who knows our falling and our rising with the risen body of Christ Be with us always , Be with us and your daughter as we descend into the crypt of our daily lives to where there is no certainty but only trust, trust that the child will be born in us and will lead our spirits home. .
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