O heavenly Star,
I am living in the dark night
Of unknowing,
Searching for peace in uncertainty.
O Lighthouse in the sky,
I am living in the dark night
Of the unseen,
Trying to die slowly to myself.
With your beacon of light,
Like a laser sword from Heaven,
You strike and slay
All my enemies.
I rejoice in the source
Of your powerful light,
Christ the Courageous,
Your only Sun.
As I awaken in the
Dark Night,
The swirling, twirling
Tempest of menacing fear
Violently threatens to
Throttle me.
But brimming with
The Messiah’s magnificent mercy,
Our Lady appears and
Gazes at me with a
Sweet, serene smile
And sparkling aquamarine eyes;
Then, with her soft, rosy lips,
She wonderfully warms my cheek
With a pure, gentle, loving
Kiss.
Suddenly the surging
Tornado of terror
Silently ceases as
The Spirit
Blows in the breeze
And soars through
My soul.
In the old mission church,
We, faithful pilgrims, are
Packed together tightly
Much like votive candles,
Our weary wicks waiting
To be lit by Our Lady,
With the fire of the Spirit;
It wasn’t the real tilma,
Yet the good God has
No limits whatsoever, so
After mass, I approached,
Not expecting anything —
But when I touched her,
Love’s flame filled me,
And the Divine Mercy
Warmly embraced me.
Whispered sweetly, her “yes”
Ripples and reverberates
Through the Halls of Heaven,
And the Spirit speeds through the
Atmosphere in a powerful pulse
Of gleaming, virginal white light
Into the humble House of Gold:
And, behold, The Divine Mercy is
Incarnate.
During the deep dark night,
I open the eyes of my soul,
and I see her before me,
glittering in glorious brilliance.
She smiles at me, softly, gently,
and reminds me that she rejoices
greatly when I meditate on the
Holy Passion of her sweet Son.
I listen to the magnificent music
of her most wonderful words,
and light shines in the darkness,
burning away the folly of fear.
A Tribute to Three Saints and a Venerable
My spirit rejoices in God, my savior;
He had the divine sense of humor;
If I did not become upset, there would be joy in this;
I will serve God cheerfully,
Be cheerful, always cheerful,
One needs to have smiling faces around,
Live a happy life, full of joy!
Today you laugh and sing and carry your smile,
Optimism? Yes, always! Break into song with a Gloria,
Happiness is a consequence of self-surrender.
Fear is useless,
What is needed is
Patience,
Which drives out
All worry.
Fear is useless,
What is needed is
Trust,
Which drives out
All anxiety.
Fear is useless,
What is needed is
Love,
Which drives out
All darkness.
Fear is foiled,
Worry is wounded,
Anxiety is annihilated,
Darkness is destroyed,
But by what?
By bright beams of Light,
That put evil to flight,
Oh, what a glorious sight!
Dazzling rays of red and white!
The Divine Mercy.
Nino goes to mass perhaps every month or two,
Since he’s so very busy, his prayers are quite few,
But he says he’s a good Catholic if you ask his view.
Nino needs to sincerely seek so that he may find,
He needs more time with the Lord, away from the grind,
Otherwise, the more he runs, the more he’ll fall behind.
Nino stews in envy as if he were in a
cauldron of bubbling black oil,
When someone else gets praised,
it really makes his blood boil,
If he isn’t recognized as special,
It makes him radically recoil.
The loving Lord needs to gently pop
Nino’s egotistical balloon,
Or this donkey will be despised,
as a proud, puffed-up buffoon,
But when glad at others’ blessings,
his soul will play a beautiful tune.
Nino the Donkey squeezes
out every penny in sales,
His smooth, slippery power of
persuasion never ever fails,
He legally pickpockets without
getting thrown into jails.
Nino needs to learn how to
sincerely serve each client,
He should give people a break
and with pricing be more pliant,
He must make others’ lives
easier and not be defiant.
Nino the Donkey thought
he was much better than all,
His diamond-studded saddle
made him feel rather tall,
His pride did nothing but fill him
with the most bitter gall.
Nino should focus so much
more on his good deeds,
Instead of wearing the most
fashionable fancy tweeds,
He would be better off thinking
about other people’s needs.
You are the great warrior angel,
Ready for the spiritual battle,
Always sober, vigilant, and alert,
You wait and watch for the enemy;
Then in the midst of black terror,
You slay the red dragon of fear,
Brandishing the sword of the Spirit,
The glorious golden sword of Love;
Teach us to become brave soldiers,
Soldiers of Jesus Christ the Lord,
Nourished by the holy Bread of Life,
Refreshed by His sweet new wine.
I very slowly awaken,
Still groggy from sleep,
And I feel the black enemy
Wielding his cutlass of terror,
A weapon of worry and woe,
Ready to strike me down,
But before he reaches me,
I look to wise St. Joseph,
Who gives me Our Lady’s lasso,
The Most Holy Rosary
Of the Morning Star,
A superior weapon for
Engaging in spiritual combat:
I pray it slowly, and meaningfully,
Praying a delicious decade
Each hour throughout the morning,
Meditating on the holy mysteries,
Relishing the sweet taste of Love,
Allowing Our Lady to scatter
God’s blessings like holy seeds
Wherever she wills, for she knows
Much better than I do how to please
The Lord of Divine Mercy;
But when the enemy sneaks up
And tries to mortally wound me,
I immediately grab my weapon,
And I squeeze the strong little beads
Like a Jedi does a light saber,
And my sincere, intense prayers,
Like an angel’s trumpet blast,
Reach the ears of Almighty God,
Who with legions of angels
Comes to rescue and save me.
A DIVINE MERCY PRAYER
All-powerful,
Most holy,
Most high,
And Supreme God,
I am so sorry for hurting you:
I impudently spat upon your sorrowful face,
I violently scourged your most blessed body,
I scornfully crowned your holy head with thorns,
I savagely kicked you as you fell with the cross,
I cruelly crucified your flesh with stinging nails;
In short, I have bitterly tortured you
With every single one of my sins against you.
I despise and abhor
all my many sins,
Including any
I have withheld from you
in the past —
mortal sins or venial sins —
or never confessed honestly,
or forgot about;
And I accuse myself
of being guilty of
High treason
against your Majesty,
Deserving to be executed --
and exiled --
Because my sins offend you,
Lord God,
Who are all good,
supremely good,
Totally good,
who alone are good --
You deserve only
my heartfelt love
And blind obedience
to your holy will.
Therefore, I hereby make
this declaration and resolution:
I am absolutely and utterly
determined, through your
sweet holy graces and
Your unfathomable
Divine Mercy,
To be your humble
and obedient slave,
Through Mary,
the Queen of All Hearts,
And to be your faithful servant
who with promptitude
runs away from
The false enticements
of all sin and
The empty allure
of all temptation,
and, instead, I completely
surrender myself
Into your warm embrace,
and with a heart
bountifully overflowing with
Thanksgiving for your mercy
to me,
I receive your loving
kiss of peace.
Amen.
Behold the Little Flower’s mom and dad,
They pray for parents about to go mad;
The Martin family had five sweet girls,
So their devout home was filled with French curls;
Louis and Zelie were full of great love,
They taught their daughters the path of The Dove;
With their “little queen” they had lots of fun,
And each of their girls became a young nun;
When Louis and Zelie finally died,
Heaven’s beautiful doors opened real wide;
So parents that want to pull out their hair
Should ask them for help, for they really care.
Good St. Joseph,
Inspired by the Holy Spirit,
Is the maestro of the great
Symphony of the saints,
A quiet conductor who
Never speaks, not even once,
In the Sacred Scriptures,
Yet with his paternal baton
He has masterfully directed
The heavenly music of many
Saints in this holy orchestra,
And his symphony has filled
The air with the fruitful virtues
Of love and joy and peace,
With heroic patience and
Angelic kindness, with the
Grandeur of gentle generosity,
And the innocent integrity of
Fatherly faithfulness.
You had fabulous fun playing with Jesus,
Your second cousin who knew no guile,
You loved to visit His mild mother,
Who always had the sweetest smile;
Through the patient passing of the years,
You saw the magical messiah mature,
And He chose you and your brother James,
To be apostles who strive to be pure;
In loving loyalty your mother agonized,
With Jesus’ mother at the foot of the cross,
Your father Cleophas was monstrously martyred,
And his death was a dire loss;
But you steadfastly served the Lord,
And were famous for physical healing,
You happily sought out holiness,
And spent much time prayerfully kneeling;
In a foreign land you were beaten to a pulp,
Until you were door-nail dead,
But it wasn’t satisfying enough,
So your murderers lopped off your head;
Now you wear a martyr’s golden crown,
And live in Heaven’s perennial jubilation,
Interceding for the Church Militant,
You help it become a new creation.
Not seventy times,
But seventy-seven,
And even though
I blew right by
That number
Many years ago,
You still show me
Your forgiveness,
Over and over, and
Over and over again --
But why? Why are you so
Magnificently merciful?
Because you, Lord God,
Are Divine Mercy itself,
And your holy rays of
Red and white burn
Through the darkness,
Deep into my soul,
Gently caressing it with
Tenderness and Love.
O most precious Sacred Heart,
Pierced by Longinus’ Roman dart;
Your blood flows through all the land,
Quenching our thirst in the desert sand;
Your heart can help the blind to see,
Even a really stupid fool like me;
Divine Mercy’s sweet love conquers all,
No matter how many times we fall.
“I just don’t get
Why Catholics
Even bother with
Talking to the saints:
I always speak directly
To Jesus when I pray.”
“But, my dear friend,
Although He doesn’t
Need to go through others,
It delights Him to do so:
We saints know better than
Anyone that we are merely
Ambassadors of Christ --
Yes, Jesus is truly the
Great God of Generosity,
But, even more, He is
The Great Lord of Humility.