By Gerald Griffin

As the mute nightingale in closest groves
Lies hid at noon, but when days piercing eye
Is locked in night, with full heart beating high
Pours her plain song, over the light she loves;
So, Virgin Ever-pure and Ever-blest,
Moon of religion, from whose radiant face
Reflected streams the light of heavenly grace
On broken hearts, by contrite thoughts oppressed;
So, Mary, they who justly feel the weight
Of Heavens offended Majesty, implore
Thy reconciling aid with suppliant knee;
Of sinful man, O sinless Advocate,
To thee they turn, nor Him they less adore;
‘Tis still His light they love, lest dreadful seen in thee.

Here is a trailer for a powerful Serbian movie ‘Enclave’ witnessed at the Cleveland International Film Festival.  The young angry shepherding Albanian boy brought me to tears with a heroic act on a truly grand scale.  A softly moving film defining individual struggle for meaning within an overall malaise of despair.  Beautiful and absolutely human.