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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 world’s 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 --
he’s 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 God’s profound promise:
there is no death.

--Judy Cannato
Mentor, Ohio

Devil’s 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