Second Fall From Grace
A priest was strolling in a glorious
Garden next to a church cemetery.
Deep into daily prayers his serious
Reflection had ceased funereally.
From behind a blackberry bush a man
In agonizing pain pled for his help.
Bloodied, near death he desperately scanned
This holy face and said, “you and me dwelt
In the same house for many, many years
Together. Please tend to my wounds. I must
Not die else many things will disappear
With me.” Sir! You think you know me I trust
But I don’t recognize you, in good faith.
“That’s of no consequence, we are soul mates.”
Sir, I do not understand. What’s your name?
“First, look into my eyes, what do you see? ”
The priest peered into them. I see ill fame
“Correct! What else? ” To a higher degree
I see treachery, deceit and falsehood
“ True! I am their inspiration, each sin.
I represent all that is deemed not good
The name I go by today is Satan.”
What! Prince of darkness, the living devil
The infamous enemy of my god?
“The one and only my dear friend, evil
Incarnate, this face is just a facade.”
I’ll not treat your wounds that would ease the pain.
Oh, but you must holy man. I’ll explain.”
“That church and altar, your Sunday sermons
Were built, celebrated and orated
Because of me. Every man and woman
On this earth that was ever created
Knows and fears me due to people like you.
Their lives were and are shaped by your design.
If I die, sin will also perish. Who
Would have need of your shrines
If I did not exist? Now look beyond
Your purpose for living, poor holy man.
Do you wish to sever the unique bond
Between you and me, abandon humans
Or treat my wounds so that I may still thrive? ”
Dejected he chose keeping him alive.
poem by Albert Ahearn

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Related quotes
His Church Can Rise Up
Today The Church can rise above, through God’s power and His Love.
She can rise up to the task at hand, and for The Lord can take a stand.
My friend, even in the darkest nights, we can rise up to greater heights.
For we can rise up in Christ’s Victory, as we march forward to Eternity.
Jesus Christ will build His Church, and build it upon The Savior’s worth.
She’s not built upon an earthly frame, but built upon Her Savior’s Name.
Jesus Christ the very Cornerstone, guides His Church from His Throne.
For His Church, Jesus Christ alone, is her foundation and the capstone.
He’s the Groom and we’re the Bride, and His Church will not be denied.
He’s creating a Holy Priesthood friend, of whose service will never end.
We my friends are the living stones, bought and placed by Christ alone,
We’re being built into a spiritual house, by the Church’s Eternal Spouse.
Even though darkened forces rail, the gates of Hades shall not prevail.
Christ’s Victory we can proclaim, through the power of His Holy Name.
We need to rise up above the night, and lift up high Christ’s Holy Light.
We can rise above every situation, and point the world to His salvation.
Very soon The Church will surly rise, to meet The Savior up in the skies,
Dear friend Satan is the defeated foe, and this we need to let men know.
So we need to rise up and tell all men, that Satan is the one condemned,
And when they join The Church of Christ, they too shall gain Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes

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Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy

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That Old Woman That I Know....
the old woman
goes to church everyday
reads her novena, spends more time in church
than in the house
she is close to the parish priest
gives sums of money to the
religious activities
noted for charity and
enjoys many indulgences
from the Pope
always she is dressed in the proper
whiteness
her head covered by
the required embroidery
her movement restrained
her poise reserved
holy and
silent
what they do not know
(and this is her secret that i have discovered)
is that
just this morning she slapped her maid
because her coffee was served
and no longer that hot
to satisfy her
cold longings
exactly the opposite of what she is
in society
this old woman takes away the faith of
the maid
from the same God that she adores
in her Sunday church.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Litany (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Sir Philip Sidney)
Once huge church bells did ring at our wedding,
but love is gone,
as a plague its infected, by your whims has spread;
another one
finds grace in your eyes, now knows your deep flesh,
while like some stone
what was ours is petrified into dust,
good almighty Lord God, deliver us.
What once was high and holy is now dead,
only pain remain
while you acted very unscrupulous,
could not explain
your own female infatuating fancy
and then to gain
you breached our holy, pure, solemn trust
good almighty Lord God, deliver us.
No dirge, lament or even a prayer
can change your mind,
even if I at times do in pain weep
you stay unkind,
rushes away, with your eyes set and does
your lover find;
from a women that acts to true love thus,
good almighty Lord God, deliver us.
[Reference: “A Litany” by Sir Philip Sidney.]
poem by Gert Strydom

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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Peter 1 (Chapter 2)
So, rid yourselves of malice, guile,
Hypocrisy, slander, envy;
Like newborns crave for spiritual milk,
That’s pure and grow in salvation,
Now that, you’ve tasted, Lord is good!
The Living Stone and a Chosen People:
As you embrace the living Stone that’s Him-
Men-rejected, God-chosen and precious,
You too are being made a house,
Of holy priesthood, spiritual,
To offer sacrifices liked by God,
The Father, through His Son, Jesus,
For, Scripture says,
To those who do believe:
‘Behold, I lay a stone in Zion, then,
A chosen and most-precious cornerstone,
And whoev’r trusts in Him,
Will ne’er be put to shame! ’
To those who don’t believe:
‘The stone rejected by the builders then,
Has turned to be just a capstone,
A stone that makes men to stumble,
A rock that makes some men to fall;
They stumble for disobedience
Of word, for which they were destined! ’
‘For royal priesthood, you’re chosen,
A holy nation loved by God,
To praise Him who had called you out
Of darkness, to His lit abode.
Once not people but now people of God,
Once not shown mercy but now you have been! ’
‘I urge you therefore, my dear friends,
As strangers, aliens in this world,
To stay away from sin’s desires,
That war against your soul on earth;
Among the pagans, live good lives,
So that, although, they accuse you,
But seeing your good deeds of life,
They glorify God when He comes! ’
Submission to Rulers and Masters:
‘Submit yourselves to higher-ups
Among men for the sake of God,
To supreme ones like kings and queens,
Or governors who’re sent by them,
To punish wrong-doers on earth,
And commend those who do aright.’
‘’Tis will of God by doing good,
You silence talk of foolish men,
You live afree but don’t misuse,
Your freedom to hide your evil,
Live like a servant true of God.
Show proper respect to brethren,
Love brotherhood of believers;
Honor the king but fear the Lord! ’
‘As slaves, submit to masters all,
Both good and bad; give due respect,
For, if a man should bear his pain
Of unjust suffering for God,
It’s most commendable to Him.’
‘If you suffer for doing wrong,
Endure the beating for ’tis fair;
But if you suffer for your good deeds,
Endure it for the love of God;
To this end you were called because
Christ suffered for your sake and wished,
You follow Him in his foot-steps! ’
Yet, Christ sinned not of any kind
And no deceit came from His mouth,
And when they hurled insults at Him,
He ne’er retaliated at all,
Nor threatened them, who caused Him pain,
And suffered without reason then.
He entrusted to Him, the Judge,
Instead, who judges most fairly,
He bore our sins on His body,
While nailed upon the wooden tree,
So that we might die for our sins,
And live for righteousness always,
For by His wounds, you were all healed,
And you were like sheep gone astray,
But now returned to Good Shepherd-
One overseer of all your souls! ’
(6-20-2007)
poem by John Celes

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Serve Fresh Bread Daily (1)
Anointed has a priest to be
Through holy oil the truth to see
Secrets of God they understand
Revealed to them in Jesus’ hand
But some still try to preach of sin
Without God’s Holy Ghost within
Using sweet words none to offend
They’ll only speak of God as friend
A God who’s heart’s so full of peace
His grace and love will never cease
They’ll take great care to choose each word
An angry God is seldom heard
With such stale bread they’ll feed God’s church
No wonder sheep through hunger search
For pastures green, by Jesus led
To a priest not spiritually dead
No priest should preach to fill their purse
Otherwise they’ll reap God’s curse Eze.34: 2
If Christ The Lord we’ll truly please
We’ll seek His face upon our knees
No child of God is mocked for long
Eating stale bread, washed down with song
The Lord sees well His children’s plight
From these shepherds, they’ll take their flight
So priest of God be not deceived
Speak the truth so God’s not grieved
Give through His Son your spiritual best
Then stand aside; He’ll do the rest
When called, you’ll know these words are true
That God awaits much fruit from you –Jn.15: 2
So from the flock that none should fall
Let’s make The Lord our one and all…PTO…
poem by Michael P. Johnson

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Holy City
Holy City
We arrived here yesterday
Holy city
We sat foot here yesterday
Holy city
We felt in love with you already
Holy city
Is the city where our God was born
Holy city
Here we saw where God died in the cross with Pontius pilate
And risen from his death
Holy City
Today we end up in the Sea of Galilee
It is so good to breathe the fresh air from the Sea of Galilee
This sea is amazing
Holy city
This is a journey we will never forget in our lives
Holy city
Has been an interesting point in our lives
Holy city
Was a discovery of our roots
poem by Aldo Kraas

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The Mystery of The Church
The Mystery of God’s True Church, is men and women upon this earth.
Men and women upon this earth, brought together through New Birth.
They are called out from the earth, by The Lord’s Spirit during this birth.
The members are called to a New Life, and it is found in Jesus Christ.
Christ said He’d build His Church; it is God’s institution upon the earth.
The Church includes every nation, of the earth that accepts Salvation.
God had started first with the Jew, and then Christ added me and you.
The Church was not created by man, but is part of God’s Eternal Plan.
The Church is of a heavenly origin, far above the influences of all sin.
It is The Lord’s sovereign creation, to spread the Gospel of Salvation.
For there is no earthly institution, that can offer God’s Eternal solution.
The Church is not a building friend, but of people with a heavenly end.
The Church has no earthly foundation; it is built on Christ’s exaltation.
The Church has only one mediator, which is Jesus Christ, her creator.
The gates of Hades will not prevail, although all Satan’s forces do rail.
For Christ gained for all the victory, securing for us a home in Eternity.
On the cross Jesus bled and died, so we could be His Heavenly Bride.
From that death He rose again; we enter His Church once Born Again.
The Lord Jesus died in our stead, and of God’s Church He is the head.
Believers become the body unified, living new lives because He died.
The true Bride and body of Christ, is eagerly anticipating Eternal Life.
You enter in a sinner on the earth, to soon depart into Heaven’s mirth.
Into Eternal Bliss with Jesus Christ, and an endless joy of Eternal Life.
All the saints within God’s Church, from Christ only, get all their worth.
For they have been truly sanctified, under the blood of Christ who died.
By The Holy Spirit they are set apart, with a new mind and new heart.
And they are all of one single kind, as they all have The Savior’s mind.
The end of life is just a new start, to begin in Eternity when they depart.

Psalm 135 part 1
v.1-4,14,19-21
L. M.
The church is God's house and care.
Praise ye the Lord, exalt his name,
While in his holy courts ye wait,
Ye saints, that to his house belong,
Or stand attending at his gate.
Praise ye the Lord, the Lord is good;
To praise his name is sweet employ:
Isr'el he chose of old, and still
His church is his peculiar joy.
The Lord himself will judge his saints;
He treats his servants as his friends;
And when he hears their sore complaints,
Repents the sorrows that he sends.
Through every age the Lord declares
His name, and breaks th' oppressor's rod
He gives his suff'ring servants rest,
And will be known th' Almighty God.
Bless ye the Lord, who taste his love,
People and priest, exalt his name:
Amongst his saints he ever dwells;
His church is his Jerusalem.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Suite Sister Mary
[ spoken ] dr. x: kill her. thats all you have to do.
Nikki: kill mary?
Dr. x: shes a risk, and get the priest as well.
10 p.m., I feel the rain coming down
My face feels the wet, my mind the storm
Flashing lights as people race to find shelter from the pour
Moving silent, through the streets, theyre mine, theyre mine
Midnite, she sings praises in the hall
To saintly faces hallowed be their names she cant recall
Sister mary, virgin mary, silent with her sin
[ mary: what are you doing out in the rain? ]
She feels me, I can taste her breath when she speaks
[ mary: Ive been waiting for you. come in. ]
Mary, mary just a whore for the underground
They made you pay in guilt for your salvation
Thought you had them fooled? now theyve sent me for you
You know too much for your own good
Dont offer me faith, Ive got all I need here
My faith is growing, growing tight against the seam
What we need is trust, to keep us both alive
Help us make it through the night
[ mary ]
Ive no more want of any faith
Binds my arm and feed my mind
The only peace Ive ever known
Ill close my eyes and you shoot
No mary, listen, youve got to pull your strength from my lips
I pray I feed you well
Your precious cross is gone, it made me wait so long
For what you gave to everyone
The priest is cold and dead on his knees he fed
From my barrel of death, he turned the holy water red
As he died he said thank you
I just watched him bleed
[ mary ]
I feel the flow, the blessed stain
Sweating hands like fire, and flames
Burn my thighs, spread in sacrificial rite
The hallowed altar burns my flesh once more tonight
Mary, sweet lady of pain
Always alone
Blind you search for the truth
I see myself in you, parallel lives
Winding at light-speed through time
No time to rest yet
Weve got to stop his game
Before madness has the final laugh
Too much bloodshed
Were being used and fed
Like rats in experiments
No final outcome here
Only pain and fear
Its followed us both all our lives
Theres one thing left to see
Will it be him or me?
Theres one more candle left to light
[ mary ]
Dont turn your back on my disgrace
The blood of christ cant heal my wounds...so deep
The sins of man are all I taste
Cant spit the memory from my mind
I cant cry anymore
Mary, my lady of pain, always alone
Blind you search for the truth
I see myself in you, parallel lives
Winding at light-speed through time, youre mine
song performed by by Queensryche

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Haunting The Chapel
The holy cross
Symbol of life
Anticipate the lives of Christians born
Speak of death
The words of hate
Anticipate the rules among the dead
Hell has seen
Priests condemned
To bring forth the lord of the cross
Strike twelve
Raise the dead
The chapel comes under attack
The ghosts of dead
Torment the priest
Their altar will soon be destroyed
Heaven's mass
Turning black
The church will belong to the dead
Blackened magic
And thus we're lost
Lucifer will supreme
The crystal ball
Children of faith
Their lasting eternal scream
Those who never make the people scream
Have no task for all of time
Satan's form of soldiers stand in lust
Destruction charged upon the cross
Attacking there's seven ways to go
Tormenting the priest
song performed by by Slayer from Haunting The Chapel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 118
v.22-27
S. M.
An hosanna for the Lord's day; or, A new song of salvation by Christ.
See what a living stone
The builders did refuse;
Yet God hath built his church thereon,
In spite of envious Jews.
The scribe and angry priest
Reject thine only Son;
Yet on this Rock shall Zion rest,
As the chief corner-stone.
The work, O Lord, is thine,
And wondrous in our eyes;
This day declares it all divine,
This day did Jesus rise.
This is the glorious day
That our Redeemer made;
Let us rejoice, and sing, and pray,
Let all the church be glad.
Hosanna to the King
Of David's royal blood;
Bless him, ye saints, he comes to bring
Salvation from your God.
We bless thine holy word,
Which all this grace displays;
And offer on thine altar, Lord,
Our sacrifice of praise.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Scripture's Mirror
Looking into the mirror of Scripture, I am able see a truer picture,
Of who I am and what my life is, in view of God's Righteousness,
The reflection of me in light of, The Holy Lord, Who reigns above,
It gives me The Lord's true value, of that person, I thought I knew.
I observe, in that poor reflection, a lack on my part, of subjection,
That, to The Holy Spirit of God, in places where I sometimes trod,
While living sometimes far below, God's Holiness, that I do know,
Living sometimes with one foot in, this fallen world, filled with sin.
The longer I walk with Jesus Christ, the more I question of my life,
Just why did The God of Eternity, reach in darkness, to touch me,
Touching this dark wayward heart, than offer me a brand new start,
A new start, while still on the earth, when I received a Spiritual Birth.
With that birth, He opened my eyes, to a God, both Holy and Wise,
One, who knows my very being; knowing about my life, everything,
So the more I grow, I also realize, things about me which I despise,
It begs the question, why does He, love such a sinful soul like me?
When I look into Scripture's mirror, next to The Lord, I'm so inferior,
When in that mirror I see my face; I'm again reminded of His Grace,
That God saved a wretch like me, to reign with Him through eternity,
However, very soon, I'll be like Him, glorified and totally free of sin.
(Copyright ©11/2012)
Dial 8
On a sea of nails in self doubt
I push this feeling further into this sound.
In all this failing i could never hide
The truth of pain that left me broken on the inside.
We are the future, We are the lie
Trapped in holy innocence we only wish to thrive
We are the nightmare buried deep in your mind
We are the travesty sweetened with your pain.
Alive, Alive, but Barely Alive.
Alive, Alive, but Barely Alive.
Shepherds spreading death
Dragged outside shot in the head.
Holy maimed again.
Dragged outside shot in the head.
A million faces in a bloody shroud
I hear their voices calling me to put you down.
Covered in blood, drowning in my hate
I covered my eyes, I covered your eyes
I covered my eyes.
We are the cancer eating at your mind.
We are the ministries for all of your crimes.
Shepherds spreading deaht.
Dragged outside shot in the head
Holy maimed again.
Dragged outside shot in the head
Dragged outside shot in the head
Holy maimed, holy maimed again.
song performed by by Velvet Acid Christ

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cosmic Estuary...by Talile Ali
here goes.
ever since i discovered
that all that we were was living an illusion,
i have wanted to know the where and why of it.
thru investigation,
i have discovered a great deal, all of which
seems to confirm the illusion and
the reasons why we need to perpetuate it.
there are a lot of things going on in our
perpetuating this illusion
of the lives that
we have ourselves to commit
we are social animals.
being so, we need to address
the two major drives we all have
to exist
we have want and needs.
in order to want to survive.
we have wants and needs
in order to want to live
These two drives
Created this illusion
of our lives
And how we perceive ourselves within it
we have defined ourselves as being divine
different from other animals.
this is the beginning of our
delusion, being humans.
we needed to define ourselves as a distinctive being
in order to want to go far
are we the only animal who have illusions
about who and what they are?
all living things need to believe in
who and what they are as art
if thing's do not have a motive to exist,
they ceases to be real in their heart's.
THAT IS WHY FAITH IS SO IMPORTANT.
in our situation,
we have created this fantical mythos
so grand that it allowed us
to live long in such ghost's.
In the instance of the other species,
their mythos is exactly what it needs to be
in order for them to perform
the functions we so desperately need
thats right,
we need all things
to want to survive
in order for us to want to be alive.
that is the power of faith
in all living things.
from the tiniest atom to the grandest of universes,
there is this purpose to be well.
to be well.
it is in our desire
to be well
that all things may flow.
from plants to human
to atoms to microbes,
being well is the function
we all know.
but since all things have
something known as free choice,
we have consequences that are so cold and true
disaster is often the result of listening to those voices
we chose to put caustic materials
in or bodies for consumption at times
the result is we end up diseased up
from trying to metabolize things we can't even describe
If this is true for us known beings and all that we know
is it also true for the cosmos which also ebbs and flows?
poem by Talile Ali

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The Holy Roller
-Copyrighted & registed 2008 ASCAP Music/Austin-Tatious Music-(Preach-2-the-Preachers Ministries)
Dedicated to those who worship the numbers, money, influence, affluence, and holier-than-thou pragmatism that modern churches & mega-churches have eroded to.
The Holy Roller
Hey Holy-Roller, you're just too funny;
How you give that church, mountains of money.
Preacher gets money, lives high on the hog;
Feeds Filet Mignon, to his weenie-dog!
Church says 'Good Holy, gets stars in his crown; '
But, he still ignores, the homeless downtown!
He knows that bible, quotes it all the time,
Church grows richer but, they can't spare a dime!
Church got pearly gate, and a golden street,
Children face winter, in their cold, bare-feet.
Preacher's new Hummer, is So-Very-Fine,
Bag-Lady stands in, the soup-kitchen line.
That Holy-Roller, looks up t'ward the sky;
His eyes on the prize, he can't wait to die.
Saved and self-righteous, he's got it all planned,
He will play the harp, in the Angel Band.
He say's, 'cha-ri-ty, should begin at home, '
But home's a sidewalk, and my pillow's stone.
Lukewarm and wealthy, he don't understand,
'Cause he likes his head, buried in the sand.
He says 'Cut taxes! ' and 'Just end welfare! '
'No more free lunches! ' and 'No free healthcare! '
He asks, 'Why must THEY, always take and take? ...'
It's not his problem, he tells us 'Eat cake! '
He was raised poor too, he should know better,
I think I just might, write him a letter...
Dear Holy-Roller, now, for what it's worth...
Your path to Heaven, should begin on Earth.
Enjoy your Sunday-Church-Celebration,
Pray for us sinners, for our salvation.
Go pray 'til you're blue, tithe your ten percent,
But, PRIDE'S a sin too/When will you repent?
Church says 'Old Holy, gets stars in his crown; '
He LOVES ev'ry-one, long as they ain't brown!
He knows that bible, quotes it all the time,
Church grows richer, guess it's organized crime!
Church got pearly gate, and a golden street,
Children face winter, in their cold, bare-feet.
Preacher's new mansion, is on Easy Street,
Poor Mama wonders, 'What will baby eat? '
Hey Holy-Roller, you're just too funny;
How you give that church, s**t-loads of money.
Preacher takes money, lives high on the hog;
Feeds Filet Mignon, to his weenie-dog!
PS: Mr. Holy... for what it's worth...
The path to Heaven, starts right here on Earth!
'If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking.'
- George S. Patton
'When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in a flag and carrying a cross.'
-Sinclair Lewis
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre

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Transperancy
I see your tears even when you don't cry infront of me
I hear your pain like tear drops falling inside of you
Let me in, so I can try to fix you
I'll bleed your pain and repair every damaged tissue
You say you fine, but your eyes tell me a different story
You living a disguise trapped in hell although you are holy
You are emotionally scard, pain tattoed within your heart
You no longer know what living is, because life and death for you don't seem far apart
You died the day you failed to live
Because you living a painful death (living a life that has no life)
You see yourself through a mirror
But the mirror sees your hurt at first
I know your sky will never be blue
Your brain forms those dark clouds, hence those rainy tears
You've lived with so much pain throughout all these years
Its now a part of your life hence your dreams are your fears
You need a friend, someone to comfort you, its just you don't see me
Or maybe its you in my mind and you IS me
No wonder why I can see you so clearly
I have my eyes shut and yet..Transperancy
poem by Kgagamatso Chimelwane

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Evil will perish,
Evil will perish,
Evil will perish,
The good will be seen by God,
All that man did on earth,
There is the remedy that will make that good occur,
Every mean's that we are alive,
I came to understand life's glory than miseries,
In all that is to be done,
Man is evil minded,
But with God's grace there is the living that will be fair with that Infinite,
I think,
That the evil will perish,
The love of God will let man see the glory coming,
From all the good,
Then evil will perish,
An everlasting covenant with God will not end but Increase.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty

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Abbot John of Forde at prayer
All the wonders under heaven and earth
would take more than a lifetime to enumerate –
why then, to be surprised, that One
can speak to such as me,
not in my outer ear, but straight
into my inner ear – nay, right into my soul
his gnosis whispers as it were myself
that spoke it… whispers
such sweet things,
that though they blessedly inform my later words
- as these to you – yet they tremble
in their truth, upon the very edge of words;
whispers such new things to me,
though such things, old to Him,
old, but present; thus, they’re ever new…
for this, I’d waited; waited in the stillness of my heart;
now listened as it were to all
my life explained to me; not, not in judgment,
but in the sweetest grace of friendly intimacy;
and then, when I can no longer hold
Him to me, dare to ask for further news of my true self,
He’s gone…
At first, it was the sweetest pain, His going;
and then one day, I learned as from myself
the way to share with Him, his return journey –
which for Him must be – as must have been – joy beyond all joy;
returning to His Father… so I accompanied Him
with gratitude and praise…
and then I learned, when I accompanied Him
to that place where all inner and all outer meet,
a further, private, holy thing – His Father’s love
for Him… which aforetimes had been but words
that I believed to be beyond man’s mind…
the whisper in my thought, now thunder in the world;
silent thunder in the mind, flashing lightning in the soul;
yet in the silent church, I by the altar there, sounded
near as altar candle’s peaceful flame:
I knew that what men call a mystery,
is daylight truth as visible as mountains or as streams:
that what men read as words, dance off the page
in holy silence, to the heart: the Holy Trinity
was, is now to me, as necessary and inevitable,
as Man and God; as living, now, as God and Man;
as living, now, as Grace.
So John of Forde records for us, by grace of grace itself.
[John of Forde, c.1145 – 1214, is a newly translated witness
to the undivided Church in an age when spirituality,
scholarship, and poetry of speech came together at their height.]
poem by Michael Shepherd

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