I had a wonderful contemplation of the First Joyful Mystery while driving home from the cottage last night. It connected to my exploration of the Song of Songs, which I am drawn and drawn and drawn to.
What a lovely thing is the author's handling of verse 38. The scene ends because what comes next is too private, too intimate. The very silence is drenched with meaning.
I imagined what God would have done in preparation for union with His bride. I picture her in a simple room, earthen and humble, clothed in drab homespun, surrounded by the scents of life; wood smoke, animal dung, sweat, dirt, olives. Taking a quiet moment away from a day filled with the necessary tasks of life, to ponder what the angel told her.
And then the Holy Spirit comes and all is changed.
Time halts around them.
Music fills the air.
Mary is enrobed in splendour, and the surroundings change to a scene of love from Solomon's song.
I think this needs to become a poem...