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POETRY
Psalm of Trust
The Lord is my Partner. I need not be frantic. He
provides my peace of mind, He removes my tiredness. He is forever
faithful even when I wander. He sends angels on my journey to correct and
guide me.
Although I walk among the cynics, and hatemongers, the
homeless, and the crazies Even on the evening news when I see a young man
beaten and left, like a scarecrow to die on a fence post, I am not
controlled by fear and irritability. In consolation and desolation You teach
and comfort me.
You prepare a life for me in the presence of my
skeptics. You provide more of this worlds goods than I could ever
stuff in my closet My heart overflows. Your care and concern are palpable
to me. Your forgiveness total. I long to be with you forever, As You
fully are.
--John Montague Toronto
Distinction
Those dear old hymns -- hes not sure any
more about the words. But he still believes in the music. --Fr.
Joseph Gallagher Baltimore
Winter Reflection
Icy breath swirls tree tops, sways even the
oak. Its very sound chills. Bare-boned trees, exposed, hide
nothing nor can themselves be hidden. Naked before Nature, they
clatter, clatter, branch against branch, incapable of all but
waiting.
Such clarity comes with winter. Stripped of
everything, one can see the essential: evidence of unseen tendrils
rooted deeply in frozen soil, sap-blood that courses even in cold.
In winter we wait. Wait. And witness the cosmos darkest
secret and Gods profound promise: there is no death.
--Judy Cannato Mentor, Ohio
Devils Advocate
A useful saint should dramatize what timely, tested
virtues are. Let no one then be canonized who did not own and drive a
car.
--Fr. Joseph Gallagher Baltimore
Happy Talk
Learn it quickly, learn it right: Joy on earth is joy
despite.
--Fr. Joseph Gallagher Baltimore
Haiku
earthworms sip the rain dance at the edge of the
grass wake up the robin
--Timothy Pettet Kansas City,
Mo.
A young woman stands inside
A young woman stands inside her billowing cotton
dress clothes pins clutched between her teeth
gathering sun-dried
bed sheets she uses the wind to fly each blanket like a flag never to
touch the ground
laying it folded in her basket she moves to the
next harvesting fragrances to be served at bedtime --Timothy
Pettet Kansas City, Mo.
National Catholic Reporter, March 19,
1999
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