My little mother, queen, and saint
A little flower I found one day
Thérèse, whose fragrance none can hide
Sweet, from above, where she abides

My little mother, queen, and saint
Whose petals hold the dew and rain
Of grace from God that falls up there
That makes its fields so pure and fair

My little mother, queen, and saint
Who lets me drink that I'll not faint
Each time my lips are moist, refreshed
It seems that more of me is fetched

'till nothing's left, is what I pray
But that which falls Thérèse's way
And somehow changes beautifully
Me, that is, where I can see

I wish that I could run right now
All through those fields, I see, and how
I'd not come back, but stay to thank
My little mother, queen, and saint

I know the heart of Saint Thérèse
Through whom I came to love and know
Jeanne d'Arc, herself, who's always there
Where I and Little Flower go

I'd never make a claim so bold
To know another's heart, I mean
Except, this time, I know it's true
I know it's real, if never seen

So much depends on point of view
And even on one's heart's desire
It must have been that way for me
The day Thérèse showed me Jeanne's fire

I saw it like I'd never seen
A moment so sublime before
Thérèse's heart was like a wind
That swept me to it, wanting more

In flames I went; I took Jeanne's hand
Afraid, but knowing, glad, no cares
My other hand was clasped, you see
By Saint Thérèse, who joined us there

You mustn't fear, nor worry so
This fire's where God in Spirit says
That I may know, be glad, and sure
I know the heart of Saint Thérèse

I know; because before Thérèse
I'd never held her hand to know
Jeanne d'Arc, herself, who's always there
Where I and Little Flower go

The following is an ontically impoverished poem drawn out of an ontological treasury of love and devotion to St. Joan of Arc and St. Thérèse of Lisieux, my saintly sisters and Heavenly guides.

Little Flowers and Fiery Towers

There's so much joy in leaving this for that
Exchanging mine for theirs by way of love 
Like when I lost at life and fell quite flat
And Saint Thérèse danced by to pull me up

She did not come alone at all, by far
Her sister dear in heaven, Joan of Arc
Came too, to clean me up and be my friend
Affirming me as brother and as kin

Praise God! And too, the Virgin Mary sweet!
Our Mother sent these saintly souls to me
"Our household's never more to be apart"
And so, they flew to steal their brother's heart

This journey new is full with life and song!
And colors bright, astonishing, and strong
But I love most the gifts Our Lady sends
Thérèse and Joan as sisters and as friends!

Along the way with joy we sing and dance
The light of Christ so animates this land
These souls are bursting bright with life and power
In Christ a Little Flower, a Fiery Tower

Like little flowers and fiery towers! Please Lord!
In freedom, passion, happiness, and mirth!
There's so much joy in leaving this for that
Exchanging mine for theirs above the earth

I reach to tightly hold their hands

Saint Joan of Arc and Saint Thérèse
Are gifts from God through Mary's hands
I did not know the great extent
Nor just what Jesus really meant
When first Our Lady He bestowed
A love for her in me that flowed
Until I could not hold inside
The movements of this graceful tide
To love her so, I asked Him please
For pureness and humility
In me those things do not exist
Most sins I never could resist
So, Jesus sent as Mary said
Saint Joan of Arc and Saint Thérèse
To offer me in charity
A little of their own, you see
How could our mighty Lord now frown?
When Mary shows Him my new crowns
Shared by these saints who love me so
Who pulled them from their treasure trove 
The best of all these graces be
To live in spiritual poverty
Though empty in myself I know
I walk with sweet and holy souls
As Jesus lifts them high, so grand
I reach to tightly hold their hands

~ Walter Emerson

I have loved what you loved
I have raised my eyes
Been moved by your example
Followed as you led
Had faith because you did
You cared about me
You fought my battles for me
And I miss you
And honor you
You shared your treasure
With me
Now I am filled with hope
Now love consumes me

~ Walter Emerson

I honor you today
Simplistic praise in heart
As one whose cottage sits
Among the fields possessed
By you who by the hand
Of God and Mother, too
As angels gathered ’round
Were crowned among the true
My only hope from God
And of Our Lady, too
My only prayer I seek
Besides my songs for you
Is that my place of rest
(That cottage in the field)
Will be that kingdom blessed
Of Joan and Saint Thérèse

When I look out the window pane each day at three to stare

Or rest my elbows on the sill each morn to breathe the air

Sometimes, more now than then, in solitude and thought I see

Delightful sights up on a hill where sits the Ladies Tree


I love to lean and look beyond her shades to pillowed clouds

Out over plains and flowers blowing breezily about

And slightly to one side and down the hill by banks of grass

Is Frogs Spring blue where children often sing, hold hands, and dance


Wistfully turning back inside my house to clean and strain

Over some things collected through my years of joy and pain

With tears I realize the things more treasured than the rest

Are friendships that were forged from youth while playing on that crest


Then came a day I still recall with joy and leaping heart

When at my sill I saw those friends, like me, now aged depart

They left their things, they moved with grace, I saw that from my sill

They looked to make their way across that plain and on that hill


I lean and think that heaven’s call may not be all that long

And how it would be nice to meet those friends once more for song

My apron off, I have a change in plans today at three

Today’s the day I’ll leave my sill and run to the Ladies Tree

Stepping on the dry, dirt road

It began on dry dirt
It happens sometimes to me
It is unique to summer time
To hot, dry, breezy summer days
It starts with a dusty road, or perhaps a tree

Why it is that summer’s lazy mood
Over dry, pebbly dirt or fields mowed
With distant leaves brushing playfully about
Brings it to being, into astonishing bloom
I do not know

Still, I looked up from that dry and sandy road
And I caught sight of one of those dancing trees
Swaying in the wind through air thick with heat
Then came the moment, the one that happens
Slowly, firmly, halting my being

More than a moment, it is a whispering call
To be heard it stops time like a picture
Though, it is yet greater still
For this call transcends distance as well
Making it not simply stillness, but Now

There, like an irresistible unknowing
It was there, appearing before me
As I was standing on that dusty road
And staring at that tree
It was dry, hot, and breezy, the magical three

I stopped, right there, going no more
While my spirit continued outward through it
To a time and a place of my youth
When I also stood timelessly still
Just like I was Now

I wanted to reach out and touch
That age and place long past, so far
And wondered if back then I had
Unsuspectingly reached forward to Now
For a moment, it was one life, eternal

Timid, the one with me looked curiously
Suggesting maybe we should move on
And this I thought, too
For transcendence does not mean
That time no longer has its meaningful space

It is usually no use explaining
The only thing one can do
Is to simply step forward on the dirt
Entering time, again, yet again
But knowing, oh knowing, that heaven is there

The Ballad of Thomas Ox

A tiny village in Christendom 
Is where this tale tells on
Down dusty trails into the town
I found a man anon

So worn from travel, three of us
Pursuing rest and cheer
Thérèse with Joan of Arc did fuss
As I ventured off to hear

This man stood in the square and sang
His name was Thomas Ox
I left my saintly sisters praying
To tell Sir Ox my thoughts

“Good cheer my friend!" I bowed in need
“We travel by your way
On this the trail, Dogmatic Creed
We march in hope today!”

“You see, our young Thérèse found me
Alone and lost in fear
From darkest woods I soon was free
To dance in sunlight clear”

“And as we waltzed toward the sun
In prayer with silent hearts
How pleased was I to come upon
Her friend, dear Joan of Arc”

“Sent from Our Lady's throne so sworn
 These two to lead me home
They've said this trail through here is worn
By saintly steps of old!”

“Indeed,” spoke Ox, he widely grinned
“What troubles you then lad?”
I glanced toward my saintly friends
Who make my heart so glad

“I heard you sing, Sir Thomas Ox
That God loves more or less
Your words were sweet, they were not lost
I felt their soft caress”

“I see the beauty of my saints
I know I’m not the same
I sing their praise because God paints
More beautifully their name”

“But on some days, I do complain
I'll never make their lot
That makes me sad and filled with pain
What say you, Thomas Ox?”

“Now son,” said he, “do dry your eyes
I also shared this hymn
While God makes souls of different size
He fills each one to brim”

“Our Lord and Lady love you dear
To pour from larger casks
Like those of your two sisters there
Into your heart that lacks”

“God loves the same in that each soul
He fills up to its crest
Some overflow to make His goal
Of filling all the rest”

Rejoice! My heart then felt aflame
This was the secret key
To love that I am less than them
Prepares me to receive

Right then I saw that love's not far
When reaching high from low
And loving those among the stars
God's raised from here below

God favors those in whom he makes
Abundance for the rest
His favors to my saintly mates
For me is bounty blessed

I ran toward my sisters dear
Was time to move in haste
My heart now filled with joyful tears
From God’s cascading grace

We journeyed on, toward the sun
Thérèse and Joan with smiles
“Dear man, come on! “ they pled in fun
Our Kingdom’s many miles!” 

I think God loves them very much
I’m filled when I do too
And that is what I learned with such
Engaging, prayerful muse

I strolled behind and made them leap
By kicking a small rock
They laughed and kicked it back to me
As I waved to Thomas Ox

My little mother, queen, and saint
A little flower I found one day
Thérèse, whose fragrance none can hide
Sweet, from above, where she abides

My little mother, queen, and saint
Whose petals hold the dew and rain
Of grace from God that falls up there
That makes its fields so pure and fair

My little mother, queen, and saint
Who lets me drink that I'll not faint
Each time my lips are moist, refreshed
It seems that more of me is fetched

'till nothing's left, is what I pray
But that which falls Thérèse's way
And somehow changes beautifully
Me, that is, where I can see

I wish that I could run right now
All through those fields, I see, and how
I'd not come back, but stay to thank
My little mother, queen, and saint

While idly traipsing through the woods one day
With nothing much in mind to do but play

I heard a rustle opposite a brook
And found three angels, puzzled, by their looks

So fair in countenance with heads in crowns
They bowed to me in need for one renowned

“Dear Sir, please help in our most noble quest,
Our Lady sent us here at her behest”

“Above, you see, we plan a jubilee
For Joan of Arc from France and Domremy”

“Delighting her is our desire, behold! 
We wish to shower her in flakes of gold!”

“But first a question begs our heavenly hosts
We ask, what music Joan of Arc likes most?”

I love all angels; they are kind to me
Though these were troubled, needing help, all three

“I know of nothing here” was my reply
“To her in envy earthly beauty sighs”

“But simple songs of love! Now that should be 
The answer sought for her by you and me!”

My angels’ eyes began to dance with glee
They raised their wings and played their strings for me

They danced and sang with bending bows in sync
Like seraphim of ancient lore, we think

We marched and danced and sang our songs along
The pathways narrow reaching fields now gone

A light appeared above the woods and we
Could see a figure shining beautifully

With arms outstretched to draw us ever near
Our Joan stood smiling, cheeks with trickling tears 

With her my angel friends departed on
They thanked me ever warmly for triumph won

I smiled and turned again to traipse along
And thought I heard the celebration song

As I did idly muse on my way home
Through woods and fields on trails again alone

I kicked a rock and skipped a time or few
In hopes that I may someday play there too

I know the heart of Saint Thérèse
Through whom I came to love and know
Jeanne d'Arc, herself, who's always there
Where I and Little Flower go

I'd never make a claim so bold
To know another's heart, I mean
Except, this time, I know it's true
I know it's real, if never seen

So much depends on point of view
And even on one's heart's desire
It must have been that way for me
The day Thérèse showed me Jeanne's fire

I saw it like I'd never seen
A moment so sublime before
Thérèse's heart was like a wind
That swept me to it, wanting more

In flames I went; I took Jeanne's hand
Afraid, but knowing, glad, no cares
My other hand was clasped, you see
By Saint Thérèse, who joined us there

You mustn't fear, nor worry so
This fire's where God in Spirit says
That I may know, be glad, and sure
I know the heart of Saint Thérèse

I know; because before Thérèse
I'd never held her hand to know
Jeanne d'Arc, herself, who's always there
Where I and Little Flower go

There's so much joy in leaving this for that
Exchanging mine for theirs by way of love 
Like when I lost at life and fell quite flat
And Saint Thérèse danced by to pull me up

She did not come alone at all, by far
Her sister dear in heaven, Joan of Arc
Came too, to clean me up and be my friend
Affirming me as brother and as kin

Praise God! And too, the Virgin Mary sweet!
Our Mother sent these saintly souls to me
"Our household's never more to be apart"
And so, they flew to steal their brother's heart

This journey new is full with life and song!
And colors bright, astonishing, and strong
But I love most the gifts Our Lady sends
Thérèse and Joan as sisters and as friends!

Along the way with joy we sing and dance
The light of Christ so animates this land
These souls are bursting bright with life and power
In Christ a Little Flower, a Fiery Tower

Like little flowers and fiery towers! Please Lord!
In freedom, passion, happiness, and mirth!
There's so much joy in leaving this for that
Exchanging mine for theirs above the earth

A trail is magical, lively, and fun
It is childlike the way it hides from some
The mystery of endings strange unknown
It helps if you're not traveling alone
Through woods, by ponds, or hidden fox's lair
The scheme of these by which I do not care
Yet never have the end your only goal
Relax and slowly go in warmth or snow
A trail, you see, is God's own mystery
The point of which we learn by journeying