Hallowed Eve Vigil

Written in 1977

The world came down
Like a load
All day
The world's voices
Echoed through
My hallways
Ghosts and goblins
Taking their last assaults
On saints
They've failed to cast down
(I anticipate the day)

Tonight
A voice behind a curtain
In the dark confessional
Peace
A candle glowing
Behind the church windows.

I am standing outside
On this cold October eve
A door closed
Your image resigned
Its specter.

Tomorrow
The light will dawn
East and west
From north and south
God's friends
Assemble triumphant.

Words

I have such
Gratitude of debt
Owed to the
Workers of words
Honing their craft
To pour upon the page
Perhaps to
Send through time
A silent symphony
My inner ear
Catches with delight
Held spellbound by
The resonance of the
Tone
Comfort of wisdom's
Arrows
Dwelling in the home of the heart
St. Bonaventure
Called us all
Little words
Words
We speak to each other
Even without knowing
We can be
Tone deaf or
We can be
In tune.

Lea

Ten years you shared
Life with us
Standing in the doorway
That fateful summer day
Tall and willowlike
Quiet mind, musical fingers
Intelligent laughter.

You were our company
When times were hard
In exile our souls had gone
Across the ocean miles
In search of a place
Beyond tyranny
You shared our tears
And laughter.

Three small children
Called you mother
When illness began
Its final designs on you
How we struggled
Against the relentless and
Slow descent
Into the smothering of
Life's breath
Your last year was
Spent with another's
Heart and lungs
Medical marvel
Doctor's casebook of
Experiment
You felt your person
Disappear into
The anonymous halls of
Science with only
A future for others
As you lie in your sweet grave
We tend in the spring
Visiting a place of repose and
Care for your children
Now grown tall
Past childhood.

I wish we could have
Spoken more but
Underneath the silent words
All sensed your departure
Sorrow and mystery held our
Tongues
But not our tears
As you left the
Small children
Still their mother
From across the grave
Speaking to them
In silent music
Directing their hearts
To blossom.

Inside of Me

Written in 1977

So what to the
Tear stains on the page
So what to the
Life I live
So what.

It's so easy
To be black
And white
The pull is there
To freak out inside.

It must be gravity
Earth versus heaven.

Meanwhile
Here on earth
Watching clouds
Moonlight
Twinkling stars
Gazing heavenward
It's hard
Trying to be up there
Down here.

Oh, I've said it all before
This suspension
Repetitious to the comma
Endless lines in poems
But you see
It's like this
Inside
Right now.

In the instant
Betwixt inhaling-exhaling
All is swept away
Snatched
The light bulb shattered.

Please excuse
My absence from the scene
Deep inside
I'm seeing myself
Without the light on.

A Little Confession

Written August 12, 1977 from the dark night of the soul

I'm afraid of pain
Today
Kneeling in the pew
The crucifix
On my left
Frightened me a bit
It was the depth
Breadth and height
Of Jesus to suffer
Such a Passion
It overwhelms me
Hiding behind a pillar
Didn't help
He was up there
And I wasn't.

I'm afraid of pain
Today.
I'm not always
So trembling of soul
It's when I behold
How little
I can bear
I become afraid of
The next onslaught
Always worse than before
The specter
Towers threatening
Hovering dark above me.

From behind my cowering position
I send
A silent plea
I don't understand
But please
Don't let me run away.

Poverello

I would not venture
Beyond the confines
This valley sets
Declining an invitation
To visit your home
Many miles a far
My sister brought me back
A small crucifix of
The One who spoke to you
My father a small purse
Graced with the picture of
Your hillside town
A wallet usually empty
As befits you
Poverello.

We did not meet except
Passing in time of
Sadness you called out
A melody heard
Gone again
Until one eve before the tabernacle
Did appear in my mind's eye
In company
The soul stamped with your
Image bearing his cross
You who loved
Brothers tenderly
Keep company with your sons
Raising their hearts with your comfort
To love beyond this world.

Now that you in heaven
Shine through clouds that cover
I am pierced with thoughts of you
I stumble to follow the tune
Poverty not always
Easy to bear each day
But then
There is always tomorrow
Let me show forth my hands like yours
Marked with love of Him
Searching into our hearts
Let me be with you
In harmony enfolded
Poverello.

The Annual Parish Retreat

Written in 1977, an attempt at satire or was it just frustration?

Well, my dear the out of town experts
Are conducting retreat
Our annual religious expression
They've driven for miles, isn't that a big clue
To bring a new message to me and to you
And stir our parish to fervor.

It's our once a year spiritual diversion
A week-end to ignore the kids
Our usual demur is not quite secure
Only Monday at nine will cure us.

It's so nice that the experts are ladies
Out of town ones are always so nice
They're experts on religious positions
A retreat lead by them is the life.

They shine and they smile kindly on us
Make us feel the whirl of good times
We goo and we gag we don't know we've been had
By a case of the week-end whirlies.

Well, the ladies are gone our parish is quiet
Things are back to their mundane routine
I'm used to the fact next year they'll be back
For another short term impression.