At the Grotto, the wild rose didn't bloom,
Yet the Virgin brought me out of myopic gloom
My Blessed Mother is intercessing,
I feel Her constant blessing
From Her place of visitation,
Full of peace and purification,
I went to the holy bath
And bathed my hands and face
In this sacred place,
I was set on a new path
(Let us drink today from Her spring most pure
And pray life's sufferings to endure
She will bring about a miraculous cure)
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Author Notes
On Sunday, Dec. 4, the second week of Advent, I gathered some people and we drank from the spring of Lourdes France, where Our Lady appeared to a little girl in 1858. The last verse was addressed to the group, but I decided to include it in the poem. I went to France in Oct. 2021. It was a fantastic pilgrimage.
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