Madonna of the Pomegrante:
The Annunciation
Blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.
Breathed into her by the God of creation.
Mary says yes to Gabriel’s message,
Let it be done to me as you say
and she becomes the temple
of God’s will,
the first mystical act of recreation,
the first mystery she would ponder
in her heart.

She would be the Mother of God,
and bear His word in her very being
She was held in God’s embrace.

Like the warm blossom
of the pomegranate
opening in golden sun,
in the garden of recreation
she could feel the first stir
in her womb.

Howard Schroeder

Virgin Mother holds her joy,
and gives it away to the world.
Exposing her most precious child
of her womb to both love or hate,
reverence or ridicule,
acceptance or rejection,
adoration or loathing,
kindness or cruelty, humility or pride,
holiness or perversity,
responding to or ignoring.
She knows her child will be subjected to
everything humans have within them.

This child crowns her life with all
That love can give,
if He only had the chance,
The chance to give everything.

The child holds a promise in his hands
a crimson red pomegranate slightly split
exposing it’s honeycombed core
of shimmering arils,
the seeds of Christ’s passion
planted from the foundation of the world.
Like sparkling garnets,
droplets of precious blood
that will save humanity.
They are the seeds
of the new tree of life.

Howard Schroeder

Like tears from a Frankincense tree that are collected for their fragrant incense, Her tears were collected by God, not a single one unnoticed.
The five wounds of her Son was the sword that pierced her Immaculate Heart. From her wounded heart rose the fragrance of redemption
for all the spiritual children she would bear.

Her own child, she lifted up from the deep dark thorns that crown the tree of Myrrh,the other sweet fragrance to honor a king in death. A short lived death, but it seared her heart like a thousand years, until the third day.
Those days in between that haunt every soul’s life,the evil one’s last desperate temptation to despair of meaning.

Surviving this moment is the burning act of faith and trust, the one that crowns our first “yes” to God. He has given us his own precious blood,
Spilled like the arils of a pomegranate. A jewel like garnet to hide in our heart and nurture, to tend and grow to fruition.

Our Lady of the Snows, beautiful Mother standing for us
wearing the Crown of Recreation.
Mary implores us . . .
Out of a pure heart love one another.
Make our souls glow with love to withstand the fierce wind
of love as it sculpts the hearts of her children into grottoes
to display the riches of the pure crystalline brilliance and clarity
of Christ’s love.
Heaven’s treasure falls unceasingly, gently accumulating
in the hearts of the faithful. Like a blanket against the cold
keeping our hearts warm.

Howard Schroeder