The Ballad of Thomas Ox
A mythopoetic journey through the Sky-Veil with St. Joan of Arc and St. Thérèse.
Many years ago, I authored the following poem to express my love and devotion for St. Joan of Arc and St. Thérèse. I saw in them a single heart—something I called “the combined hearts” of St. Joan and St. Thérèse. Mythopoesis was the furthest thing from my mind. However, I sensed the hypostatic presence1 of their friendship in heaven and love for me. Every attempt to describe this relationship in terms of “concepts” and a rational metaphysical scaffolding of ideas fell far short. Poetry was the only form of expression that could come close. The relationship I sensed between Joan, Thérèse, and me was known by its presence, not rational deduction.
The reason poetry brought me closer to these two saints is because of the tension between their sacred space as metaphysical entities and the “experience of the experience” in my space I wanted to share. I sensed something at the edge of my existence and theirs in heaven. What was at the “line” between heaven and earth—between the combined hearts and me? At what point does my world end and theirs begin?
The question tugged relentlessly at my heart, as if Joan and Thérèse held a string wrapped around it, gently pulling. What I discovered was not a “line” or a solid demarcation, but a “space”—a liminal landscape—through which the two were drawing my soul and that was on the far edge where they waited to receive me.
The Ballad of Thomas Ox will offer you a shimmer of that land-in-between, a place I call the Sky-Veil.
Enjoy The Ballad of Thomas Ox as poetry-in-song. Visit my music website to enjoy much more.
Lyrics ©Walter Emerson Adams. Music and vocals by Suno ©Walter Emerson Adams.
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
✦ Hypostatic Presence - A symbolic expression of Being that manifests with form and weight, though not as a personal or metaphysical entity. A hypostatic presence is a threshold—an unveiling of a divine attribute such as love, wisdom, or majesty—in symbolic form. It is neither abstract nor embodied, but real in the soul’s encounter with the world.