THE HOLY KNIGHT

You are that brave holy knight

Who on that Holy Night met Love.

The magi in their wise hands hold

Both sweet frankincense and gold,

But your strong courageous arms

Save Baby Jesus from all harms.

You are the brilliant Star of Light

In Bethlehem’s deep dark night.

Hellishly bloody Herod the Hater

Fears that he’s not the greater,

But you, oh most humble father,

With vainglory don’t even bother.

You are the brave silent knight

Who on that Silent Night met Love.

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.

TO ST. HELENA

Dear modest, majestic

   mother of Constantine,

You sweetly speak

   with stately serenity;

As a holy pilgrim, with

   eyes alive and animated,

You search for Christ’s

   true cross on Calvary.

Lumbering laborers dig up for

   you a dizzying number

Of dirty crosses -- yet

   only one is miraculous;

Only one cures the

   worn-out woman’s incurable

Disease when she is

   wondrously made well.

Then, when you eagerly

   embrace its holy wood

In your amiable arms, you

   tremble with jubilation;

Strands of your long flowing

   hair blow in the breeze across

Your lovely face and then

   softly caress the holy cross.

TO ST. PATRICK

You’re a stout lad from the big Scottish isle,

A future bishop without any guile;

Kidnappers took you away from your home,

Across a sea that rippled with white foam;

In Ireland you were made a poor slave,

Life was rough, though you tried hard to be brave;

You drew close to God and He set you free,

At last with your eyes your homeland you see;

You return to Ireland so smart, so wise,

And clearly reveal all the devil’s lies;

You pray “Christ on my left, Christ on my right,”

And you help the Irish find the true Light.

TO ST. BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX

Good St. Bernard, you love

Our Lord and Our Lady so much:

You were a sincere confessor,

But in the confessional, 

You were too severe,

Far far too severe,

And so the Spirit taught you

Gentleness, sweet gentleness;

Maybe it was from you that

St. Francis de Sales learned,

For he so famously said that

We will catch more flies 

With a spoonful of honey

Than with a barrel full of vinegar.

MARIAN SYMPHONY NO. 23

Cause of Our Joy, together with you I bless

  And praise the great glory of the good God;

Direct my steps toward the Heavenly Homeland,

  And please give me the sweet honey of humility.

In danger and doubt, I seek your sincere face,

  Take me by the hand and lead me again to safety;

You swiftly and cleverly lead me out of the wicked

  Woods of temptation and onto the plateau of peace.

Draw me into the life-giving light of your Savior-Sun,

  And pray that I enter fully into His limitless love;

Teach me to surrender, to surrender myself to Him,

  To surrender totally, completely, and joyfully.

Plead with the Lord that I be purified from affection

  For the useless and dangerous things in my life;

Help me to recognize the evil one’s subtle yet

  Savage plans to maliciously murder my soul.

TO ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

Your jolly, joyful eyes dreamily dance

  to the sublime, saintly symphony

Of the unimaginably beautiful creations

  of the Most High Lord God;

Your pious, prayerful persistence

  and earnest embrace transform the

Leprous lechery of our lives into

  the radiant Son-shine of lasting love;

Your voice, like a melodious and

  musical church bell, resonates and

Reverberates throughout the ages

  with the clarity and purity of truth;

Your simple, kindly actions speak

  louder than the sonic boom of the

Ghastly gossip and eloquently

  empty chatter of the world.

TO ST. CLARE OF ASSISI

Your exquisite bright blue eyes

   are soft and serene,

 Beholding the remarkable

   richness of God’s creation;

Your honey hair cascades

   over your shoulders like a

Wonderful waterfall of God’s

   ineffable, indelible love;

Yet you choose to be a

   princess of holy poverty,

And your only wish is to

   sweetly serve in simplicity;

You are a faithful friend to

   the good Saint Francis,

As you both sacrificially surrender

   to Jesus the Just;

You are a merciful mother

   to the nuns of San Damiano,

As you guide them in purity

   and prudence and peace;

You are a beauteous bride

   to Christ the Courageous,

And your soul is bedecked with

   the precious pearls of virtue;

As you fervently follow in the

   footsteps of Our Loving Lord,

May we too live on in

   the laudable light of Christ.

TO ST. BONAVENTURE

You were the genius blessed by God

Who spoke of the holy marriage of

Faith and reason, and, indeed,

What a fruitful couple they make.

You were the teacher blessed by God

Who showed that everything we do,

No matter how great or how small,

Should point us towards Heaven.

You were the diplomat blessed by God

Who brought Light to the Franciscan order, 

And as the sagacious Seraphic Doctor,

You were an instrument of God’s peace.

THE KNIGHT

Christmas,

The night of Christ,

The breathtaking eve when the

Babe of the Incarnation

Heroically came to save us.

St. Joseph,

The Knight of Christ,

The brave, holy man that the

Babe of the Incarnation

Trusted wholeheartedly.

TO SANT' ANTONIO DI PADOVA

They knew you as a Franciscan friar,

And your wise words lit in them a fire;

You preached to the fish when men wouldn’t hear,

They leaped from the water, filled with good cheer;

Then some envious men poisoned your cup,

They stared, aghast, when you drank it all up;

Before you heretics always cower,

Since through you God shows His mighty power;

When we really feel we have lost our mind,

Your passionate prayers help us Jesus find.

TO SANT' ANGELA DI FOLIGNO

Forty years in pursuit of 

Wealth and worldly respect,

Before you realized

It was all totally worthless;

But you made up for lost time

As the Wonder Counselor

Graciously removed the

Dead weight out of your life

So that you would be free,

Free to follow Him forever;

You generously gave away

Almost all you owned,

And Jesus sweetly filled you

With the fruit of the Spirit;

Like Augustine, too late

Did you know Him, but

Thanks to The Divine Mercy,

It’s never, ever too late

To finally find The Good,

To finally find The True,

To finally find The Beautiful:

God is love.

TO ST. CATHERINE OF SIENA

Inspired by the writing of this great saint

You stand atop a holy bridge,

A bridge that has several levels,

Like the historic Ponte Vecchio,

And the waves of the worldly waters

Are swarming with sea demons who

Obsessively seek souls to rip open

With their blade-like bloody teeth,

And their cold cadaverous claws,

To torture them in The Endless Death;

But some souls, through God’s grace, 

Cling to the edge of the first level

Of the bridge, dripping wet and

Shivering, terrified of going to hell,

So they clutch tightly to the bridge,

Fearing that they will fall back into

The turbulent black river of doom;

Other souls, through God’s strength, 

Climb up higher to the second level

Where they are safe from the evil

Threat below, in a place of serene

Consolation, where happiness can

Finally reign in their grateful hearts;

However, there are still others who,

Through your passionate prayers -- 

And surrender to the Holy Cross --

Climb to the top of the bridge, and

There -- yes, there! -- they are

Pierced by the overwhelming beauty

Of the magnificent heavenly realm,

Where Jesus’ peace surrounds them, 

Where Jesus’ joy enthralls them, 

Where Jesus’ love embraces them.

TO ST. THOMAS MORE

You were the Lord High Chancellor

  Under the infamous Henry the Eight,

At first you tasted the king’s friendship,

  But later on the sovereign’s hate;

You were a right honorable gentleman,

  With an intellectually sharp mind,

With courage you stood against the crown,

  For, sadly, it was spiritually blind;

So you were put in the Tower of London,

  A place that vile criminals dreaded,

You faithfully served the good God first,

  Thus, the monarch had you beheaded;

In this world, you bravely battled for truth,

  The people, you’d never mislead ‘em,

Now from Heaven you pray for us all,

  As the patron of religious freedom.

TO ST. TERESA OF AVILA

As a strong spiritual mother,

You reliably and respectably

Reform the Carmelite order,

And your holy friendship

With St. John of the Cross

Helps your soul spiral upwards

Towards the Heavenly Kingdom;

Then, you close your eyes and

Your spirit penetrates into the heart

Of the Interior Castle of prayer,

And there, during the dark night,

You discover the true Light.

TO SAN PADRE JUNIPERO SERRA

You’re the scapegoat saint,

Blamed for the evil of others;

Why do people seek to erase

You from history’s chalkboard?

Why do they desire to smash

Your honorable reputation?

Why do they wish to cancel out

Your love for Native Americans?

In this precarious culture war,

The Franciscan Way must lead:

Love must conquer all hatred,

Pardon must heal all injuries,

Faith must replace all doubt,

Hope must cast out all despair,

When Light scatters the darkness,

It is then that freedom rings.

TO ST. PHILIP NERI

Your happy heart desired to go abroad,

  On a mission to the exotic Far East;

Where you might convert lots of souls,

  And become a holy Jesuit priest.

But as a merry man with natural goodness,

  You were drawn by God to Rome;

You had no money and you had no plan,

  Yet the Eternal City became your home.

With Socratic discussions on street corners,

  You most pleasantly evangelized;

Yet you did it in such a fun-loving way,

  That the people never felt chastised.

One Pentecost something special happened --

  You felt the peace of The Dove;

When a globe of fire entered your mouth,

  You almost died of ecstatic love.

You inspired many in the confessional,

  So that the truth they understood,

And the people always heard you saying,

  “When shall we begin to do good?”

TO ST. MONICA

You agreed to marry Patricius the pagan,

  Humbly submitting to your parents’ will,

You were very kind and generous to him,

  Though he responded by treating you ill;

But about a year before leaving this world,

  He finally accepted the Nicene Creed,

Through your example of faith and love,

  His stubborn soul was finally freed.

However, you still had much work to do,

  For your son Augustine broke your heart,

He was a teacher who was very arrogant,

  And he strutted because he was smart;

But you vigorously persisted in prayer,

  Fasting with tears over his empty life,

When he met the great Bishop Ambrose,

  The Spirit pierced your son like a knife.

It was on Easter that the saintly Ambrose

  Joyfully baptised your prodigal son

Who went on to become a Church Father,

  And many victories over heretics won;

The end of your life was so very sweet

  As Augustine treated you like gold,

You’re the patroness of motherhood,

  And of your story many have been told.

TO ST. LOUIS DE MONTFORT

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.

TO ST. BARTHOLOMEW THE APOSTLE

With smug sarcasm you doubted Philip:

  The Christ from Nazareth could not come;

To you it sounded like your friend’s

  Naivete was in reality pretty dumb.

But this Jesus said, smiling softly:

  That he had seen you under the fig tree;

Your spiritual eyes suddenly opened, and

  The true Messiah did you finally see.

You saw Lazarus lazily lurch forward,

  As he stepped out of his rocky grave;

This was one of many amazing miracles

  That in the end your soul did save.

Decades later, you screeched and screamed in pain

  As your sordid killers skinned you alive;

But now your bright eyes see Heavenly glory

   Where for eternity you very happily thrive.