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Friday, June 26, 2015

A Mack-nificent Medley....

from the poet laureate of this blog! Enjoy his profound perspective on a variety of subjects, spiritual and earthly, and sometimes the connection between the two! Thank you, Mack from Texas, for sharing your God-given talents with us!


Birdsong
St. Matthew 10:29
A fledgling dead, its little body limp
Not yet devoured by cats and ants and time
New russet feathers shining back the sun
Forever-still wings that cannot sing the wind
A handsome beak that now will never know
The sensual savour of seeds and worms,
Or gossip and prate around the summer lawn
Where summer romance sweetens the twilight air:
We only know that this small life was sent -
And that may well explain the universe



Posing for Selfies at the Foot of the Cross
A Doctor Mengele can cut and sew
Fragments of human flesh into a lie
And hide with perfume, paint, and filtered lens
This mockery of the embalmer’s art
That writhes in coils around the Tree of Life
Dressed richly in the colors of decay
And hisses through an anaesthetic smile
“That’s just the way the world works now.”
And let The People say how brave it is
To pose for selfies at the foot of the Cross



Our Lady of Walsingham

O how beautiful is Our Lady Queen!
Queen of our hearts and hopes, and of the May
Sweet Empress over forest, down, and dene,
And happy Sunrise over the pilgrim’s way
O let us crown Our Queen with leaf and flower
Gathered this morning in the dawnlit dew
For we in this island are Her true dower
Pledging our faith with thorn and rose and yew
She gives us Her feast day, cool and quiet and green -
O how beautiful is Our Lady Queen!


With True Prayers
“…but with true prayers
That shall be up at heaven and enter there”
-Measure for Measure II.ii.151-152
A study table is an Altar too
Whereon repose not only holy books
But also hopes and prayers and coffee cups
On Wednesday evening – there in fellowship
To crown the middle of the busy week
With an hour or two of quiet discourse
And, yes, laughter, joy, and merriment
Among dear friends, our happy gifts from God -
Evil cannot veto, even with our blood
The truth: this table is an Altar too


“With a Clear View of the Southern Sky”
Curved metal plates with gadgetry attached
Those cosmic spies and robot messengers
Lurk on the roof and there obscure the stars
With clutter beamed and bounced about the skies
Encoded and decoded back and forth
Somewhere between the truth and a satellite
Attractive knowledge of evil and good
Electrons coiled around a metal tree
Purring in unison: “You shall not die” -
Curved metal plates with gadgetry attached

Why is the Man in the Moon Always Happy?


The Man in the Moon is smiling tonight
His duty is his joy, to take his place
Within the celestial liturgy
Whose rubrics were appointed before time
So that the spheres in happy dignity
Perform their sacred offices to God,
Ab Introibo ad Benedicat,
As ceremonies of grateful creation
And that is why, with angels, stars, and us
The Man in the Moon is smiling tonight
 

Abbey Saint Joseph - Vespers
Dusk rises from the dark and dewy grass
And sweet bells sing to end the workman’s day,
To call the busy brothers from their tasks
To wash in haste and stand in statio
And there to wait, to hear a subtle tap
That sends them silently into the church
Across a floor swept smooth with golden light
By the husbandry of the setting sun:
The day is placed upon the Altar now
There to be blessed by gratitude and Grace

Emmaus isn’t on the Map
The road from Emmaus is not in the book
Emmaus isn’t even on the map
Still, people walk to Emmaus every day
And then they go away to somewhere else
Because while everyone visits Emmaus
It’s only for supper and a new assignment
Although the directions seem somewhat vague
Those who have been there seem to know the way
The road to Emmaus is in the book
The road out of town is mapped in the heart


If in a Desert
If in a desert live we, still, we live
And our recusant duty is to live
And plant here roses that can never die
Even if they die, for that which was still is
Immutable in life and hope and faith
By drinking not of sad ephemera
But from a clean, cool well offered to all,
With places at a Table beyond thin time
True roses bloom; dust only blows away
If in a desert live we, still - we live

Searching For God and a Lost Shoe
For a university student
The morning sails through your window as light
Dark blue when winter rests upon the world
All green and golden in the happy spring
But welcome every day, in every way
The silence is soon broken by the noise:
A rattling faucet, a rattling roommate,
The merry chaos not yet organized
Into the poetry of this day in God
So sing while searching for that other shoe:
The morning shares with you its hymn of joy
"Emmaus Isn't On the Map..."

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