Words of Celebration

Here's a poem I wrote years ago which I still like. I wrote it for my friend Felix Joffrion. It speaks of the work of a counselor, framing it with language of a Eucharistic service.



To the Priest without a Collar
(On the Work of a Counselor)

Not being one to mistake
Shadow for substance,
He chooses the liturgy of the heart
For his work and worship.

With the pre-ecclesiastical natural rhythm
Of the human calendar,
And with processions that are not just
Anonymously cloaked actors waiting for Sunday lunch,
The Great Litany of the Soul slowly unwinds
Until the heart is truly open,
All desires known,
And truly no secrets are hid.

Arms unloosed from cords of the past
Are then free to receive the grace
that flows from the Lord's Table,
And are free to embrace the fellow traveler
who had seemed so distant.

And the lights upon the altar of the heart
Are not extinguished,
For the real presence of grace remains
Awaiting the next Holy Procession.




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On Crabgrass and Curmudgeons

-


I don't like it
That there is crabgrass in my yard.
I hate that it creeps across the walkway
No matter how often I clear it away.
Yet I must admit
That except for the crabgrass,
Some parts of the lawn
Would never be green.



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Distant Hope

-


There are some days
When one is drained -
Curiosity is flat
Mental strength strained
Spiritual energy depleted.

Today
Watching a goldfinch
At the thistle feeder
Outside the kitchen window
Is the only intellectual inquiry I can make
And the only prayer I can offer.
Yet today
It is all I need
To see hope on the wing.



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