The Miracle

Written on 13th October 2016 whilst on holidays at Tugun.

(The Miracle of the sun occurred in Fatima, Portugal October 13—this is the last October 13 before the 100 year anniversary of Fatima beginning May 2017.)   

My reflections…

It’s October in Fatima nineteen seventeen

When the sun did fall midst the rain which did teem

They panicked and screamed as it hurtled toward earth

But it dried their clothes and no one was hurt

The blind could now see, the lame could now walk

The sun then ascended, made everyone talk…

The Fatima children to whom disbelief was displayed

Were now blessed among others, now they all prayed.

The Fatima Shrine now ninety nine years on

In Portugal does thrive but the children, now gone.

The message still lives although ignored by many

Will the one hundred years be celebrated by any?

In nineteen eighty seven, seventy years from that date

A Marian year was proclaimed by Pope John Paul, the Great

The world unsuspecting, my home she did visit

And on 13th May through the ceiling she did exit.

She visited me with messages both bitter and sweet

I was asked to be Mary?

I could not retreat!

In nineteen ninety nine after some time had passed

I was reminded by God to again take up the task

“You will do great things soon” as I awoke from my sleep

You are the chosen one… you must lead all my sheep.

In two thousand and three my priest I did visit

We mused on my writings and dreams so exquisite

With a laugh and a jest we discussed what they might see

When I became The Woman as it was shown me.

We got it all wrong when late at night I was woke

To hear a loud voice so… clearly it spoke

“They will watch me becoming the miracle” it said

When I told my priest the next day he almost dropped dead.

In two thousand sixteen we edge near the date

One hundred years to fulfil my fate?

When will it come? How will it happen?

From seventy years it should complete the pattern.

It makes me nervous to anticipate such fame

Has it all been a dream? It’s so hard to explain!

The miracle of Fatima is not over by far

If the sun can fall down, I can rise like a star.

My name is Robyn and its meaning is plain

If you search for its meaning it’s “of shining fame”

It’s scary, its real, and I cannot escape…

And wonder and wait but I know God is not late!

The thirteenth of Fatima causes me to reflect

 On all that has happened in retrospect.

One hundred years loom ever so near

I’m awaiting a miracle – I‘ve now made that quite clear!