Emptiness is the beginning of contemplation.
It is emptiness like the hollow in the reed,
the narrow riftless emptiness, which can have only one destiny:
to receive the piper's breath and to utter the song that is in his heart.
The pre-Advent emptiness of Our Lady's purposeful virginity
was indeed like this. She was a reed through which
was indeed like this. She was a reed through which
the Eternal Love was to be piped as a shepherd's song.
I am your reed, sweet shepherd, glad to be.
Now, if you will, breathe out your joy in me
And make bright song.
Or fill me with the soft moan of your love
When your delight has failed to call or move
The flock from wrong.
Make children's songs, or any songs to fill
Your reed with breath of life; but at your will
Lay down the flute,
And take repose, while music infinite
Is silence in your heart; and laid on it
Is silence in your heart; and laid on it
Your reed is mute.
Caryll Houselander
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