TO ST. LOUIS DE MONTFORT by Joe Castorino

 

You are a man in love,    

oh so deeply in love    

with Our Lady,    

so with strength    

and with courage    

as a knight of Christ,    

you cavalierly show us    

the short way,    

the easy way,    

to the Queen of All Hearts;    

as we follow the illustrious example    

of John Paul the Great    

and mild Mother Teresa,    

you very confidently lead us        

to the Blessed Virgin        

so that she might    

graciously guide us to  

the Babe of Bethlehem;    

the jealous Jansenists,    

irked by your missionary success,        

perniciously plot against you,        

and you are banished --     

but the flames of divine love,        

like tongues of fire,        

sweetly sweep throughout France    

in the strong driving wind    

of the serene Spirit;

even now in the new millenium    

our lives continue to be    

refreshed and renewed    

by this burning blaze         

as we make our consecration        

to Jesus through Mary:     

totus tuus.

 

SURRENDERING TO DIVINE MERCY by Joe Castorino

 

When I wave the white flag

in the serene surrender of prayer,

I allow the water of my soul

to be poured freely into

His chalice of gold;

there I am baptized by Love

and born again,

transformed by the Transfigured,

changed forever by the sweet

new wine of the Spirit.

 

A MISSION OF DIVINE MERCY by Joe Castorino

 

As I gradually look up,

  I see luminous rose petals

Fall gently and delicately

  From the sky like snow,

Eucharistic-white

  In the deep dark night.

 

My mission is prayer

  In the dark night of the unseen,

My mission is surrender

  In the dark night of unknowing,

My mission is love

  In the dark night of the cross.

 

The path before me is

  Strewn with radiant roses that

Glow like glorious lamps,

  So I faithfully travel it and find

The Eucharistic Light

  That transfigures the dark night.

 

DIVINE MERCY AT MORAINE LAKE by Joe Castorino

 

It is a bright beautiful morning in the

  crisp clean air of the Canadian Rockies,

We ascend as I drive up a wonderfully

  windy road past babbling brooks;

I am driving the “Tin Can” (the affectionate

  name that we have given our car),

After reaching the sunny summit,

  we gently roll into the Valley of the Ten Peaks;

We finally arrive at the large lake and 

  look up at the regal ring of mountains,

Yet I feel slightly saddened because

  somehow it’s less than I expected;

A lodge that looks like a big log cabin

  stands silently like a sentinel near the water,

We decide to dine there and enjoy a 

  delightful bit of roast beef for lunch;

The savory flavor of my sandwich lingers

  in my mouth, as I think about my morning,

I try to cunningly convince myself that 

  I’m not disappointed, but I know that I am. 

 

Departing for our next destination,

  I wistfully walk towards our little car,

But as I look to the right, I see a

  tar-black hill with a winding trail upon it;

The people look like pilgrims as they

  make their way up the mysterious mound,

Curiosity gradually grows within me as I 

  ponder, puzzled, where the path leads;

So I investigate and struggle up the steep

  trail, tripping occasionally on rock and rubble,

But when I get to the top, I am frozen

  with fascination as I behold the view;

Above me is a diadem of snow-tipped peaks,

  gleaming with the glory of God,

Below me is the pristine lake, and it is

  shimmering and sparkling like a gemstone;

It appears as if millions of sapphires

  and emeralds have melted into liquid,

And the blue-green color of the 

  lovely lake is luminous in the sunshine.

 

My senses are suddenly soaked in Your

  Holy Spirit’s lasting love, and I feel Your beauty,

At this moment, nothing else matters,

  and I only long to be close to You;

At this moment, I am oblivious to my past,

  and I am oblivious to my future,

I am living in the eternal and

  mystical present of the great I AM;

You are Holy Humility, You are

  Magnificent Mercy, You are Limitless Love,

And with Your divine sense of humor,

  You really are the God of surprises.

 

DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT OF UNKNOWING by Joe Castorino

 

It’s early morning and

the crafty enemy

crouches and waits,

like a hungry lion ready

to devour my world,

with worthless worries;

in the neutral zone,

transitioning out of sleep,

I lie in bed with my eyes closed,

and my mind gradually

awakens into the

nebulous fog

of fear.

 

My day begins

in the dark night of unknowing.

 

The enemy tries to strangle me

with multitudinous doubts:

about time,

about interruptions,

about irate people,

about conflicts,

about coertion,

about expectations,

about performance,

about success,

about reputation,

about ability,

about sales,

about money,

about choices,

about decisions,

about relationships,

about rejection,

about knowledge,

about honesty,

about truth.

 

The fog of failure threatens

in the dark night of unknowing.

 

With my eyes still closed,

still in the neutral zone,

I am in the darkness;

but the Light is there,

though my mind’s eye

cannot yet see it,

so I reach out in faith and

place myself in the presence

of the good God,

then I invoke the Holy Spirit,

and in my mind

I sing a hymn of praise;

suddenly, through the cloudy mist

like a distant diamond

I see the sparkling of the

Morning Star.

 

The Light twinkles

in the dark night of unknowing.

 

Our Lady sweetly

and gently

draws near to me,

in a tunnel of dazzling

Son-shine;

she warmly smiles at me

with her angelic aquamarine eyes,

and her soft hair

and her majestic mantle

blow in the balmy breeze

of the Spirit;

and she lovingly clasps

her own warm hands

around mine,

and then tenderly

embraces me,

with the limitless love

of the Lord.

 

The Light shines

In the dark night of unknowing.

 

Next she places a radiant

little candle

in my right hand,

and points to her only Sun,

Christ the Courageous;

she sweetly whispers to me,

and then, together,

we humbly kneel down

and offer prayers

of complete surrender

to Our Lord and King --

the flame of my little candle

dances with delight.

 

The Light bursts forth with

merciful rays of red and white

in the dark night of unknowing.

 

Then the fog of fear evaporates

and my heart leaps

with confident joy.

The dark night of unknowing

has been triumphantly

transformed into

the bright light where

God’s love is flowing:

Jesus, I trust in You!

 

DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT OF THE DESERT by Joe Castorino

 

I am wilfully wandering

in the woeful desert,

my blistering mind scorched

by the sizzling sun of sin;

I am oh so very lost,

eerily encircled by the

towering black sand dunes

of temptation — but then,

as the dark night falls fast,

I finally find Him, a Star,

sparkling like a diamond,

like a brilliant beacon,

and the Light of Divine Mercy

streams into the hollow center

of my humbled heart.

 

DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT OF THE CROSS by Joe Castorino

 

My heart is ready, O God:

   Jezu, ufam Tobie!

I take batting practice,

   and the crisp crackle of

my maple-wood bat echoes

   throughout the stadium.

 

Later, I hear a soft sweet voice say,

   “Do whatever He tells you”;

therefore, when I see the Spirit signal,

   I gently lay down a regal bunt that

humbly dies to itself in the grass as I run

   to first base like a strong driving wind.

 

As I stand on first base, with a

   smile on my face from ear to ear,

my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

   for in my surrender I start to love;

however, The Beast, seething in hot

   anger, already plans his revenge.

 

When I return to home plate,

   The Beast strikes me out

over and over and over again

   with the flaming fastballs of fear,

and I fall, carrying a heavy cross,

   dizzy with discouragement.

 

My Manager benches me in the chapel,

   but lovingly teaches me to fast from fear

and leave my worries in His loving hands,

   so for three days I return to the chapel, 

for ten minutes daily, to ask for His guidance,

   and to receive the Spirit's gift of wisdom.

    

When I'm back in the lineup, The Beast

   scornfully glares at me from the mound

with his mean menacing black eyes;

   But I hear a voice encourage me:

Non abbiate paura,” and again,

   louder, “Non abbiate paura!”

 

By God's grace, I stand again in the

   batter’s box, and I hit a shooting star

whose sparkling trail is red and white,

   quickly shattering the dark night,

and the line drive swiftly sizzles over  

   the shortstop and into left field.

     

Then, in my next at-bat, filled with

   the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit,

I swing and barrel a flaming missile,

   that brightly lights up the dark night,

and as the ball soars high over the wall,

   the angels playfully dance around it.

 

DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT OF SURRENDER by Joe Castorino

 

For years and years

I stubbornly bought

my own baseball bats,

because I always

wanted to be in control,

but like my

big-shot dreams,

they all shattered,

splintering and

bloodying my hands;

at last, I listened

to You,

and I let You

choose one for me,

a powerful bat

of strong

Virgin wood,

perfectly formed,

and as regal

as a princess;

she isn’t a

heavy bat

but a light one -- 

and she doesn’t

weigh me down

with worry,

for she is filled

with Light;

her lovely name is

“La Madonnina”

and as I surrender

to the Spirit,

she sweetly

guides my swing

and thunder crackles

upon impact with

adversity, as I hit

lightning line drives,

exasperating the enemy.

 

DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT OF THE UNSEEN by Joe Castorino

 

I quietly and invisibly

live my faith,

and accept life’s

incessant curveballs;

I am obedient to my

Manager’s wish for

bunt singles 

instead of home runs.

 

The people of the world

are sitting in the box seats,

busied with food

and entertainment;

living in another world,

they have no idea

what I’m doing

in the batter’s box.

 

But Our Lord, Our Lady,

and the heavenly court

happily cheer me on

from the upper deck;

I live my life behind

the cross,

living in the dark night

of the unseen.

 

UNEXPECTED JOURNEYS INTO DIVINE MERCY by Joe Castorino

 

To escape -- like a coward --

The stranglehold of stress,

I try my best to sidestep

Inconvenient interruptions

Whose menacing thunder

Frightens me — yet why?

They lead me on a journey

To the God of surprises,

To Heaven’s horizon,

Where the sun’s streaming rays

Of radiant red and white are

Colored by Love’s divine mercy.

 

HEALED BY DIVINE MERCY by Joe Castorino

 

My intellect puffs with pride,

but as I kneel before Jesus

hanging on the cross,

I am cut by contrition

as if by a crown of thorns;

then, the blood of Divine Mercy

cleanses my corrupt soul,

and I am born again.

 

My hot veins boil with anger,

but as I kneel before Jesus

hanging on the cross,

I am punctured by penitence

as if by knife-like nails;

then, the water of Divine Mercy

purifies my putrid soul,

and I am born again.

 

My heart throbs with envy,

but as I kneel before Jesus

hanging on the cross,

I am stabbed by sorrow

as if by the soldier’s lance;

then, the light of Divine Mercy

floods my foul soul,

and I am born again.

 

TO ST. THERESE OF LISIEUX by Joe Castorino

 

My sweet Little Flower,   

your humble acts of charity   

are like tiny grains of sand,    

yet when they’re poured out    

upon the fruitful fields of Heaven    

by the Father’s faithful fingers,    

they form a mountain of love    

that would gracefully tower    

over the mighty Everest;    

you stand in great strength,    

as the missionary of missionaries,    

in the gentle presence of    

the Virgin of virgins,    

the Mystical Rose    

of incomparable beauty,    

and your precious seeds of prayer    

are cultivated with care by the    

ever patient Divine Gardener,    

nourished by His living water,    

producing a bountiful harvest of    

salvation in our suffering world;    

above the clouds of worry,    

your cheerful sky is always blue --    

help me to follow your example    

so that my soul too may sing    

those heartfelt words of wisdom:    

“My vocation is love!”

 

FIRE AND FEAR by Joe Castorino

 

Don’t fight fire with

    fire,

And don’t fight fear with

    fear;

Rather, fight fire with

    forgiveness,

And fight fear with

    faith.

 

DIVINE MERCY by Joe Castorino

 

My intellect puffs with pride,

but as I kneel before Jesus

hanging on the cross,

I am cut by contrition

as if by a crown of thorns;

then, the blood of Divine Mercy

cleanses my corrupt soul,

and I am born again.

 

My hot veins boil with anger,

but as I kneel before Jesus

hanging on the cross,

I am punctured by penitence

as if by knife-like nails;

then, the water of Divine Mercy

purifies my putrid soul,

and I am born again.

 

My heart throbs with envy,

but as I kneel before Jesus

hanging on the cross,

I am stabbed by sorrow

as if by the soldier’s lance;

then, the light of Divine Mercy

floods my foul soul,

and I am born again.

 

UNEXPECTED JOURNEYS by Joe Castorino

 

To escape -- like a coward --

the stranglehold of stress,

I try my best to sidestep

inconvenient interruptions

whose menacing thunder

frightens me;

yet they lead me on a journey

to the God of surprises,

to Heaven’s horizon,

where the sun’s streaming rays

of radiant red and white are

colored by Love’s divine mercy.

 

DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT by Joe Castorino

 

My heart is ready, O God,

   my heart is ready;

I take batting practice,

   and the crisp crackle of

my maple-wood bat echoes

   throughout the stadium.

 

Later, I hear a soft sweet voice say,

   “Do whatever He tells you”;

therefore, when I see the Spirit signal,

   I gently lay down a regal bunt that

humbly dies to itself in the grass as I run

   to first base like a strong driving wind.

 

As I stand on first base, with a

   smile on my face from ear to ear,

my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

   for in my surrender I start to love;

however, The Beast, seething in hot

   anger, already plans his revenge.

 

When I return to home plate,

   The Beast strikes me out

over and over and over again

   with the flaming fastballs of fear,

and I fall, carrying a heavy cross,

   dizzy with discouragement.

 

My Manager benches me in the chapel,

   but lovingly teaches me to fast from fear

and leave my worries in His loving hands,

   so for three days I return to the chapel, 

for ten minutes daily, to ask for His guidance,

   and to receive the Spirit's gift of wisdom.

    

When I'm back in the lineup, The Beast

   scornfully glares at me from the mound

with his mean menacing black eyes;

   But I hear a voice encourage me:

Non abbiate paura,” and again,

   louder, “Non abbiate paura!”

 

By God's grace, I stand again in the

   batter’s box, and I hit a shooting star

whose sparkling trail is red and white,

   quickly shattering the dark night,

and the line drive swiftly sizzles over  

   the shortstop and into left field.

     

Then, in my next at-bat, filled with

   the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit,

I swing and barrel a flaming missile,

   that brightly lights up the dark night,

and as the ball soars high over the wall,

   the angels playfully dance around it.

 

THE RESURRECTION by Joe Castorino

 

I turn around and before me you stand,

  one whose robe is dazzlingly white,

As you speak my name and say “Mary,”

  you forever shatter my deep dark night;

With great love, you bestow your peace upon me,

  through your wonderfully warm brown eyes,

Your merciful smile cheers my heart,

  so that my soul can most sweetly arise;

In the joyful breeze of the Holy Spirit,

  your flowing hair very gently swirls,

In my heart I totally surrender to you,

  and for you this is a treasure of pearls.

 

THE CRUCIFIXION by Joe Castorino

 

In a shadow of deep darkness, the Light

  of the world hangs crooked on the cross,

A jagged crown of razor-thin thorns is

  thrust maliciously into His throbbing head;

Bright-red blood and the fickle crowd’s

  sour spittle trickle into His stinging eyes,

He licks His cracked lips, and He tastes

  the bold bitter flavor of blood.

 

The Roman soldiers’ wild whips tore

  and radically ripped Jesus’ holy flesh,

And now the sticky crusted wounds cling

  to the weatherbeaten wood and ooze;

Knife-like nails puncture His hands and feet,

  and make them look like cored apples,

His shoulders slump down, crushed under

  the weight of every sin in human history.

 

The soldiers hellishly hammered the nails

  into Jesus’ flesh, as if He were an animal,

Indescribable pain blasted through the

  bones of His body like dynamite;

He now surrenders His body, mind, soul,

  and spirit to the will of His Father,

He lovingly practices what He preached,

  and He prays for His persecutors.

 

Jesus is high up, as if atop an isolated

  island, surrounded by a sea of hate,

A cacophonous chorus of insults assails

  His ears, and the smell of sin is in the air;

His mother, living in the dark night of

  unknowing, silently waits and watches,

She kneels in total surrender, while a 

  sword of sorrow slashes her heavy heart.

 

In the afternoon, Golgotha is enveloped

  in a mysterious murky darkness,

Then, when Jesus dies, the earth quakes

  in violent anger at the murder of its Creator;

Rumbling and roaring, buildings catastrophically

   crash and crumble to the ground,

The terrifying temblor forces the sanctuary’s 

  curtain to explosively burst apart.

 

That mysterious murky darkness remains

  in the hearts of Jesus’ faithful followers,

Their entire worlds are seriously shaken,

  and they are stunned and stupefied;

But on the third day, the nebulous fog

  of uncertainty will finally dissolve,

On the third day, a heavenly ray of Light

  will come, far brighter than the sun.

 

THE AGONY OF UNREQUITED LOVE by Joe Castorino

 

I love you, I love you

so very much,

more than you

can possibly imagine,

yet you carelessly

turn your back on me

and you ignore me,

living your busy life

as if I never existed;

now I kneel here

in this olive garden,

with my warm hands

clasped tightly together,

so deeply and so greatly

in love with you,

and my heart is breaking

because I want to share

my life with you,

my heart is nearly broken 

because I love you,

and I painfully weep

hot tears for you,

and my sweat turns into

drops of blood --

all because of you.

 

THE DARKNESS OF DOOM by Joe Castorino

 

Act I

There was midnight madness

in the heart of darkness,

where lustful lovers caroused

and burned with wild passion,

and although they were

warned by pilgrims who

were on their way to Rome,

they lived the philosophy

of carpe diem:

they could always repent

tomorrow;

but early in the morning

on the very next day,

an event took place

that forever changed

the world of Pompeii:

it was August 24, 79 AD, and

proud Pompeii was bathed

in warm peaceful sunshine

when the earth began to quake

to the awakening heartbeat

that began to stir deep inside of

the voluptuous Vesuvius,

and here and there the roof tiles

of the stately city of Pompeii

undulated in a rhythmic motion,

up and down, and up and down,

before resting quietly

and slumbering again,

as Vesuvius silently and stealthily

yawned a slow stream of

thin white smoke into the

clear blue sky.

 

Act II

By the afternoon,

there was a light veil

of white smoke that now

draped Vesuvius’ verdant body,

but when she suddenly and

violently erupted in anger,

belching coal-colored smoke

from her crater’s trembling lips

and spewing it high into

the pale blue sky,

it was only a matter of seconds

before flaming black rocks,

like Mephistophelian meteorites,

revengefully rained down

from the swiftly darkening sky,

smashing the roof tiles and

crushing the marble statues

above the villas’ courtyards;

meanwhile, the stunned citizens

scrambled and stumbled around

as the vigorous heartbeat

of the vain Vesuvius

pounded powerfully,

and a cataclysmic earthquake

ripped through Pompeii:

the sleeping giant

was now fully awake;

as the terrified men and women

raised their wild eyes

to the sullen sky,

they screamed like savages

and cursed their pagan gods

for punishing them,

and they spat in the air

at their pathetic gods.

 

Act III

Several hours later,

above the hellish rubble

of this humbled city,

the black sun approached the

black horizon and ominous clouds

suffocated the helpless sky:

Pompeii wailed in pain

and writhed woefully

as the victorious Vesuvius,

bathed in the seductive

red glow of liquid lava,

relentlessly embraced the

city in her hot wrath,

and electric bolts of

volcanic lightning danced

like convulsive demons

and lit up the murky sky

as ashen rain fell feebly

to the flaming ruins below;

maimed dogs howled in horror

at the shockingly surreal and

apocalyptic spectacle,

while the lonely human survivors,

their psyches severely shattered,

huddled together for cover

under the crumbling columns

that were sinking in a sea of

charcoal-gray ashes.

 

Act IV

As the sun slowly rose

the next morning,

the new day dawned with

a deep deafening silence,

and the sickly sun shuddered

as it peered through the

broken black clouds,

lamenting the loss of the

once grand city of Pompeii;

as the scattered survivors

clutched ever so tightly to

their shredded sliver of hope,

it appeared that perhaps the

volcanic storm had finally

exhausted itself,

and the remaining citizens,

with empty expressions

on their blank faces,

slowly and weakly

began the process of

putting the splintered pieces

of their lives back together again;

but in the distance

they suddenly heard a

thunderous roar that

rapidly and frighteningly

crescendoed as it drew nearer,

sounding very much like

a stampede of the gods;

with great trepidation,

the people lifted their

bloodshot eyes and they saw a

massive wall of

whirling gray clouds --

as tall as Vesuvius herself --

rushing madly along the

surface of the ground and

coming right towards them;

it paused momentarily,

as if trying to catch its breath,

before making one last

diabolical attack upon its enemy;

then in a twinkle of time,

the voracious cloud of hot ash

charged through and hungrily devoured

the crumpled carcass

of pitiful Pompeii.

 

Act V

As Time drearily dragged the

morning into afternoon,

the poor Pompeians

were forever frozen

and cemented into history,

buried alive in a twelve-foot

blizzard of blazing ashes;

the solitary sun looked down

sadly upon the waveless

gray ocean of volcanic ash,

and Pompeii was nothing more

than a desolate wasteland --

even the powerful Vesuvius

was left seriously crippled,

with her cone blown off

by the explosiveness of her fury;

when the news of this event finally

reached the imperial city of Rome,

Pope Cletus gathered for mass

with his flock and, together,

they fervently prayed for

the souls of the victims who perished

in the very dark tragedy of

the doomed city of Pompeii.