Issue Date: March 12, 2004
POETRY
Ashes
Beneath the font of water rests a huge bowl of ashes. In
my minds eye I run to it and grab the ashes, throwing them all over
my body and screaming I AM DUST! I AM DUST! I AM DUST!
I tell you
of my dirt and my envy and my shame.
But even desolation eludes
me as I again take my focus from my ashen self and return to the font
of water. It is so much larger, it can cleanse any ash.
The mindflash
is over, and I have not moved from my corner. Yet I am weary, slightly
smudged and I am somehow at ease in my uneasiness -- finding
perspective and keeping you in sight.
-- Jill Maria Murdy West Bend, Wis.
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Retreat
In the yet-early light of morning while pulling open the
convent door, I heard a cardinal sing from somewhere out in the pines
-- harbinger of Gods gift this day; and before the hour had even
passed it came again -- the final conference translating love song into
words: Never -- never will I leave you.
-- Sr. Maristell Schanen, OSF Little Falls, Minn.
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National Catholic Reporter, March 12, 2004 |