DIVINE MERCY IN THE DARK NIGHT OF UNKNOWING

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 UNION WITH THE DIVINE MERCY

My soul surrenders to

The Spirit’s tender embrace,

And Love sweetly surges

Through my being with the

Warm wine of holiness;

With indescribable delight

My humbled heart

Bursts with heavenly joy,   

Burning with passion for

The Crucified Christ,

Yearning for union with

The Divine Mercy.

CONQUERED BY THE DIVINE MERCY

Dark tempests savagely surged

through the sullen black sky,

searching for saints to devour,

desperately trying to demolish

and destroy the City of Light;

but the valiant Church Militant

launched their weapons of war,

and their faithful, fervent prayers

speared through the startled sky,

piercing it like holy missiles; then,

The Divine Mercy shone through,

in all His dazzling brilliance,

with great power and glory,

and the stunned storm clouds

retreated into the Great Abyss.

DIVINE MERCY AT PEYTO LAKE

As I struggle up the steep path,

My legs now feel much heavier,

And I wonder if the view will really

Be worth the arduous journey;

I see a sage old man approach,

Bearded like one of the prophets,

When I ask if I should continue,

He winks at me and nods yes;

Finally, when I reach the summit,

I behold the Valley of Heaven -- 

I breathe the Holy Spirit into my

Soul, and then exhale a smile;

The snow-capped mountains

Glisten in the warm soothing Light,

As the lovely lake glimmers from 

The Divine Mercy rays of the Son.

LISTEN TO HIS ADVICE

Inspired by the writings of Venerable Fulton J. Sheen

“Is life worth living?”

You wonder out loud;

For much of the time,

You’re lost in a crowd.

Life is worth living,

The bishop was right;

We find our mission,

And walk in the Light.

DIVINE MERCY AT MORAINE LAKE

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.

A MISSION OF DIVINE MERCY

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.

THE OCEAN OF DIVINE MERCY

I hesitantly open the door

of the confessional and

to my utter surprise

I see a beach before me:

as I approach the waters

of gentle aquamarine,

my hot feet, crusty

and blackened with

guilt, are cleansed by

Jesus’ holy hands;

He leads me into the ocean,

whose welcoming waves

of delightful divine mercy

kiss and caress my soul,

cooling and refreshing me,

and peace and joy

rush through me, and

as love ripples and rhymes,

sweetening my soul,

I am born again.

THE CHAPEL of DIVINE MERCY

My Via Dolorosa

has brought me here,

so I drag myself into

the dark chapel,

my body weakened

under the weight of

my crosses and woes,

and I am hopeless.

But here, kneeling,

my hands knotted together,

deep in prayer,

I surrender all to Him,

and, behold, a soft light

like that of a little candle

emanates from the

holy tabernacle.

Then as it gradually

intensifies and brightens,

the wick of my soul is lit,

and I relax in His presence,

my heart smiling as I am

completely enveloped in

the luminous Sonshine

of Divine Mercy.

DIVINE MERCY: ENLIGHTENED BY THE HOLY EUCHARIST

I stagger and stumble        

and struggle through life,    

my brain twisted into knots    

by perplexing problems,         

by a delirium of doubts,    

by a flurry of fickle fears;    

so Our Lady of Love            

takes me by the hand        

and gently leads me to        

The Divine Mercy,        

where He is enthroned in His        

regal monstrance of gold,    

and I pour out my heart    

before His Holy Majesty;    

from His Most Precious Body    

two beams of bright light,    

both red and white,        

burn through the darkness,    

illuminating my mind,        

and the Truth has set me free.

THE CHALICE OF DIVINE MERCY

When I scourge you with my sins

But then ask you for forgiveness,

Your most treasured blood

Trickles like tears into my heart;

When my thorny sins crown you,

But then I tell you that I’m sorry,

Drops of your royal red blood

Sink soothingly into my spirit;

Then, when I sincerely surrender

My whole heart and soul to you,

My lance of love pierces you,

And your beautiful blood spills

In terrific torrents from your

Chalice of Divine Mercy,

And my thirsty soul drinks in the

Sweet new wine of the Spirit.

SURRENDERING TO DIVINE MERCY

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.

TO ST. FAUSTINA, MISSIONARY OF MERCY

You, the mystical    

missionary of mercy,        

are honored as        

the first saint        

of the Great Jubilee,        

the first saint        

of the new millennium;    

you serenely smile        

as the blessed blood        

and the blessed water        

kiss and mingle    

in the infinite ocean        

of Divine Mercy;    

you see the barque    

of St. Peter as it    

faithfully floats on     

the beautiful waves,        

protected from the    

storm winds of worry,    

free from all fear;    

like the warm welcoming    

arms of the Bernini Colonnade,        

Divine Mercy is ready to    

earnestly embrace every    

hardened sinner who            

hungers for healing and    

thirsts for generous love:    

Jezu ufam Tobie!

THE THIRD DAY

I returned to Jesus,

like Magdalene,

sobbing, my tears

trickling, I kissed

the wounds

on His hands, 

on His feet, 

on His side, 

on His head,

the wounds that I,

yes, I myself,

inflicted upon Him,

and with gentle

compassion

He raised me up

on the third day,

embracing me

with His Holy

Spirit of Love.

TO ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE

You watch with piercing pistol eyes as

  Stephen is brought before the Sanhedrin,

The leaders flog him with false witness,

  And revengefully rush at him;

They drag him outside the city,

  And lay their cloaks at your Pharisaical feet,

Then, with hellish hate, they hurl

  Spear-like stones that crush his body;

Horribly hideous thoughts float through

  The black ocean of your mind,

And you are obdurately obsessed with

  Driving Christianity into total oblivion;

You track and hunt down the Christians

  With dreadful determination,

You throw them into prison,

  Seeking to snuff out the sparks of the New Way.

On the dusty road to Damascus,

  You relish your recent conquest over the Christians,

You are smugly satisfied with your success

  Against those religious rebels;

But then there is a blinding flash,

  Infinitely brighter than a bolt of lightning,

Catapulted from your horse,

  You clumsily crash to the ground and collapse;

Then you unmistakably hear that familiar

  Gentle voice of Christ the Courageous,

He tenderly and mercifully asks,

  “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

Suddenly you are struck blind,

  And you are entirely enveloped in darkness,

It appears as if God has blown out the sun,

  As if it were a giant candle in the sky.

Pondering and perturbed, you are praying quietly,

  In a home on Straight Street,

Lost in your thoughts, you rhythmically

  Stroke your black mustache and beard;

Your heavy heart weeps in dismay,

  As your brashness has led to your bitter blindness,

Now the hero who was persecuting the rebels

  Is himself converting into a rebel;

Scattered at your feet are the shattered

  Pieces of your old way of life,

A day ago those puzzle pieces all fit together,

  Like the pillars in Solomon’s Portico;

But now a key piece of the puzzle is missing:

  The messianic centerpiece,

You repentantly fast and pray,

  As Ananias approaches with the missing piece.

Gazing at the Circus Maximus, you know

  That your time in this world is very short,

As you reflect back upon your life,

  You realize how much you’ve changed;

Through the limitless love of the Lord,

  You have become a very humble man,

And through the Prince of Peace,

  You are filled with the fruits of the Spirit;

After so many years, you long to

  Give the kiss of peace to the saintly Stephen,

You hunger and thirst to embrace your

  Magnificent Messiah, Jesus the Just;

The sun sets in Rome’s crimson sky,

  Surrounded by clusters of woolly clouds,

This flock of lambs is ready to follow

  The shepherd-sun down into Vatican Hill.

TO ST. PETER THE APOSTLE

Your fishing boat bobs up

   and down in uncertainty,

As you reflect upon the

   meaning of your life;

With a sterile stare you

   gaze at the wobbly waves,

While the wonderful wind of

   the Spirit is silently approaching;

A merciful Son of Man is

   standing on the sandy seashore,

He is looking for his Rock,

   to make him a fisher of men;

The breeze blows through

   your stubborn dark hair,

As the Son of Man asks if He

   can come aboard your boat.

As Jesus ascends, He disappears

   into nebulous misty clouds,

You feel like a floundering

   fisherman without his nets;

Without the Good Shepherd,

   your heart seems hollow,

You now appear more like

   a pebble than a rock;

But later, a deafening wind

   whirls through the room,

And fantastical flaming

   fireballs crown all present;

In divers tongues, all mystically

   praise the good God,

And you proclaim the Word

   with holy courage.

As you are cruelly crucified

   upside-down on Vatican Hill,

Your life is brimming with

   meaning and significance;

Your blood falls to the earth

   like a myriad of mustard seeds,

Where the Church will

   take root and grow strong;

You are the first link in

   the precious papal chain,

An unbreakable chain dripping

   with martyrs’ blood;

This chain will withstand

   the hammering of heretics,

It will be like a fruitful vine

   bringing Love to the world.

THE RESURRECTION

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.

VIA CRUCIS

Pummeled by Parkinson’s,

he battles through the basilica,

leaning forward, heavily,

hunched over, crushed

under an invisible

wooden cross, laden

with the world’s woes;

from the ocean of onlookers,

like Veronica with her veil,

a mother mildly lifts up

her little newborn;

the Holy Father’s

old, wrinkled face

winces with pain,

like a warrior’s,

as he most tenderly

blesses the babe

with a gentle kiss;

the spectators exhale

a halo as they breathlessly

and solemnly sigh, “O!”

THE CRUCIFIXION

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

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.