You, my Mother Church, ask so little…
we, the modern culture,
are all unsubtle…
casting aspersions on one another–
so easily, so carelessly.
Where do we go to see more clearly
who and what we are? (I’m tearful!)
Right to the heart of the matter,
why the rite that’s a healer–
the Sacrament of Penance (or “confession”)
will look deeply into one’s interior,
where first things first–
it is WE who are sinners…
Yes, you and I need this service–
to reconcile us to our neighbors
and Mother Church, as Christ “in personae”,
gives us priests to rectify the inner
nature given to these negativities.
Not a simple “laundry list”–but the reasons
we repeat these behaviors over-and-over
to be searched and relieved–
making us better and better persons.
Not just behaviors, either, but our emotions
and thought processes… to be seen
in their entirety–until like the Saints
we are perfected. Who needs
psychiatrists and therapists, when
Christ heals He does it all for perpetuity…
think not? Well, you are not seeing freely
the LOVE surrounding the family
of humans, who await the alms
only HE, the Final Judge can offer.
Pray deeply, my friends, with palms
uptilted; receive the nourishment
of the Eternal Bread of the angels…
food for the weary journey sent
by the Father/meant
for the world, which once again
has disdained it. Remember, He bled–
and you will, too. Head straight
to the Source of your own relief; gain it!


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Before I had had my new “Mother of Sorrows” rosary for only one week–the link of the Crucified Christ came off while doing my night prayers…

Blessed Virgin, my Sorrowful Mother–
on hearing my pleading, you lifted me heavenwards…
breaking all ties with martyrdom and agony,
beautiful Mother–was my dead birthmother praying?
My life of such tragedy called up from the earth
to those mothers so glorious;this day
signs of Spring burst forth in such caring…
knowing me weak and feeble, most likely–
sure to embarrass any heroic endeavor,
though not lacking in depth is my LOVE and my fervor.
You know me as the “little one” who simply
is nearing…
the place of her childhood–but not nimble
or bravehearted… incredibly generous the gifting
I give you (but beyond my means currently,
if you’d rather). Kindness in manner
not my forte or demeanor… I rail in defiance
when the world’s in torment and disaster.
Summer drought has been the answer
to human production…
the desert scene, barren and sickly,
have harrassed Christ’s Mystical Body.
I want to comfort all God’s lonely people…
but, instead, my ire releases venom so often.
Insipidly insisting there is no blessing…
denying you and your Son their ongoing purpose…
perhaps my anger has been part of the problem.
Pray, release me from this awesome burden,
I ask very bluntly. Show me the way
to your Immaculate Heart, which saved me
once before, when my life was endangered.
You, precious Mother, interceeded and triumphed;
may I offer another less spectacular present?
Proceeding from the fires of the LOVE of my Savior–
on the feast of the Annunciation, when your yes
to God’s plan mirrors my imitation and intention:
keep me functioning so I can give what’s left
of my energy: to show the power
of the Maternal heart beating…
correcting the course of humanity’s undertakings.
Holy Mary, Mother of God…
pray for us sinners now
and at the hour of our death.

Another look at Psalm 51…

“Look for me in an empty waste”…
there you will find “justice”.
Yes, o humankind, ravage the Earth–do what
is abominable! Then life
will no longer be possible. Creation,
a reflection of the goodness increasing,
becomes cold and ugly in your domination.
Nations then ceasing… no need
for the Revelation of St. John.
We bring ourselves to this… down
to death we are descending.
“Justice?” you ask…
the final damnation pending…
as garbage is strewn on our streets
and walkplaces… the crows,
scavengers, are huge in number
and have driven out the songbirds
with their glorious chorus. The task
of rebuilding the New Jerusalem
is fraught with terrible struggle–
when we wallow in greed and pride,
we battle.
The foe (?)–a horrendous monster:
ourselves, no longer fit for survival,
and captive of our own inner nature.
We MUST walk the spiritual journey,
like our ancestors of old–initiated in splendour…
perfecting the imperfect–not a useless
endeavor: with God’s grace we can look to a future…
Though weary and weak, over-and-over,
we rise up in heat from the fire
blazing within us. My God! Tempered
in kindness this LOVE from the Spirit enflames us!
Cleanse us completely–leave not one sin
untouched or unforgiven. New beginnings
commence from the burning
as it continues… Come NOT waste and ashes!
You mean this life to be everlasting!