Consoling Mary

Freely flow her tears;
a dam so brimful
cannot contain
such towering waves.

Wondering that
my words fail
to give peace,
I reach out
and take her trembling hands.

Tearful,
I brush away
all her
bitter tears.


(13 April 2011)

The Joy of My Youth

The morning is cold,

the moon slung low

lighting the snow

iridescently blue

In the dark, glowing church

red votives flame

throw bright prayers

to the ceiling

Introibo ad altare Dei,

The old priest intones

“I will go

to the alter of God”

and I quickly recite

Ad Deum qui laetificat

juventutem meam

“To God,

the joy of my youth.”

The church is empty,

but still we go on,

chanting the ancient love-songs

to the One who lives

in the flickering flame

to the One who rises

in ascending incense

and hears our words

and becomes them.

Do You Want To Know God?

Do you want to know God? Then learn to understand the weaknesses and imperfections of other men. But how can you understand the weaknesses of others unless you understand your own? And how can you see the meaning of your own limitations until you have received mercy from God, by which you know yourself and Him?       Thomas Merton. No Man Is An Island.

(Fifth Sunday in Lent)

How can I forgive
the man who
consumes childhood
like cheap wine

who hides behind priestly collars,
wears his holiness like a
circus costume,
to fill young lives
with piercing guilt?

Is there a man
to whom you will not
bend your brow?
who,  face-to-face at last
sheds tears of sorrow,
shocked to learn that
in the end,
indeed
you are?

and if you forgive
the man who pulled
levers in Auschwitz,
to release the gas
that made holy martyrs
by the millions,

if you give a second, third
chance to the arrogant man
who slayed the children
of Norway
because he feared Islam,

If you permit even the presence
of the greatest of haters
Der Feurhrer, Der Ubermensch,
drawn, at last, like a moth, to your
golden glow,

where is justice?

How can I forgive?

My cheeks bloodied
shall I strive to be
what I cannot be?

But if my vengeance
becomes my god,
then how could you ever
forgive me?

(23 April 2012)

Mid-Summer's Night

Glowing night,

clouds excite

the summer sky -

swaying limbs

in dusky shade

sing praise,

for All’s afire!

Stars tremble,

and planets gyre

but this lovers’ moon,

consumes

the shadowed earth

with passion’s

pure desire.

(7/13/2011)

Another Exorcist

John said to him, “Master, we saw someone who is not one of us driving out devils in your name, and because he was not one of us we tried to stop him.” But Jesus said, “You must not stop him; no one who works a miracle in my name could soon afterwards speak evil of me.”  Mark 9:38-39

We saw him
down the road, exhorting,
calling Our Father
to cast out crazy Satan,
and for reference
he gave your name!

We told him to stop.

He was not
authorized,
did not have the proper
credentials

but he replied that
a spirit greater
than we twelve
guided his arms
as he waved
the devil away,

so he refused!

Perplexed, we came to you,
indignantly demanded that you
intercede, cast this upstart
heretic into the muddy ditch
from whence
he undoubtedly arose.

But again you surprise!

“Do not try to stop him,” you said.

And here’s a lesson:

Remember that neither we
nor our apostolic descendants
must ever think that you
ever gave us exclusive rights
to heaven.

We’ll try to remember.