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POETRY
The Color of Gabriel’s Wings
“I see a myriad of angels,
festive all, with
wings unfurled,
each one distinct in brightness … ”
--Dante,
Paradiso, canto 31
only one angel here
distinctly
bright,
in Fra Angelico’s
“Annunciation,”
Gabriel the messenger,
come
for acquiescence,
of the young woman
deep in thought --
how still
she sits,
demurely drab
in olive mantle,
all secrets secure
and
tethered,
hands at rest,
nesting in her lap,
how
enrapt,
praying perhaps,
or planning the evening meal,
or savoring
with artist’s eye
the slant of spring light
upon the tiled
floor
Gabriel the festive,
come to shatter the sweet ordinary
in
haloed golden ringlets
and satin gown of flamingo pink,
his fan of wings
unfurled
in span enough to shade
two rolling fields
with stream
between,
feathers shingled upon feathers
in divinely ordered riot
of
scarlet and turquoise,
gold, and palest silvery beige,
bordered in a
symmetry
of little eyes --
with steady eye
she appraises
the
resplendent alien
flowing with molten beauty
and knows he is not
from
the village
Gabriel the diplomat,
come talking smooth
to present
the case,
quivering his wings
like a Painted Lady
intent upon her
thistle,
as he asks, politely,
as if he came to borrow a
book,
“May we have the rest of your life” --
she answers
swift,
the unequivocal Yes!
of the poet who
would
magnify
her Lord,
pleased that her passion
mirrors the wild
magnificence
of the emissary’s wings
-- Ethel Pochocki
Brooks, Maine
Something Grows Green …
Something grows green
In all the young leaves …
and
In all the grass and in the sprouting seedlings --
Everywhere
--
It explodes … this “something” --
Bursting into
fireworks
Of yellow, pink, purple and white
All over the trees, the
bushes and plants --
Something grows green in me -- too --
New --
fresh -- expanding --
Promising -- more than I can imagine!
Is the bud
frightened, I wonder --
To feel itself, splitting open --
into pinky
white?
Can it ever know -- ahead of time --
That the tiny hard fruit
within its flower
Will become an apple, with seeds that sprout
And grow
into trees -- with exploding blossoms …
And that the rupture --
was worth the pain?
Something grows green in me -- too
--
Ex-pan-ding --
-- Inge Hardison
New York
Night
Sandwiched between flannel sheets
All parts of body
equally held
Muscles relax
Unknowingly I slip
into the theater of
the deep
Events, people, places
kaleidoscope through the night
I
awaken
entwined
mystified
wiser
-- Sr. Rosemary Schmid, S.C.
Cincinnati
For Us All
I couldn’t figure out
How to avoid war,
So I
did the dishes.
I couldn’t fathom
How to convert a terrorist to
peace,
So I took out the trash.
I couldn’t imagine
The depths
of a victim’s suffering,
So I prayed …
For the
victims,
For the terrorists,
For peace,
For us all.
-- Mary Hogan
Raleigh, N.C.
The Right Reverend Stranger
If I believe
Who I receive
at aisle’s
end
is both my Saviour
and my friend
then I’ll treat
the
stranger
in the street
as I do
the priest
who hands
the
Eucharist
to me.
-- Tom Furlong
Denville, N.J.
Lent 2003
What I need this Lent, God,
is a new heart:
disarmed,
defenseless
unable to reject anyone;
split wide
letting in those
who need me
in their search,
who will find
You
only if I have room for them.
-- Sr. Eileen Haugh, OSF
Eyota, Minn.
For All AIDS Workers
I reached into the fire this morning
only noticing
later the burn
paining the fingers I used
to adjust a log to force the
blaze.
I thought of Damien, the leper priest
scalding his feet and
not feeling
the pain, but knowing the meaning
of what he saw:
To
continue walking through the fire
burning his soles as never before
serving those he’d chosen to live among.
-- Judith Robbins
Whitefield, Main
Poems should be previously unpublished and limited to about 50
lines and preferably typed. Please send poems to NCR POETRY, 115 E.
Armour Blvd., Kansas City MO 64111-1203. Or via e-mail to
poetry@natcath.org or fax (816) 968-2280. Please include your street
address, city, state, zip and daytime telephone number. NCR offers a
small payment for poems we publish, so please include your Social Security
number.
National Catholic Reporter, March 28,
2003
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