CARRYING MY CROSS

Carrying my cross,

I take lumbering steps

up the steep mountain;

I grumble with every step,

like Job, wondering why

the Lord is asking me

to shuffle along, dragging

this heavy wood with me

wherever I go.

But then I come to

a dangerously deep

crevasse that threatens

to end my journey,

and even with a

giant Herculean leap,

I know that I would fall

down, down, down,

into the black throat

of the abyss below.

Suddenly, a white Dove

darts right past me,

causing me to jump back

from the edge of the cliff;

as I do so, the cross falls

forward so that its top

now rests on the other side,

forming a wooden bridge.

After I carefully crawl

to the other side,

I look back at the cross,

wondering if I should

kick it down over

the edge of the cliff,

but, instead, I choose

to slowly pick it up,

embrace it, and

faithfully follow

in the footsteps of Jesus.

CHRISTMAS DAY

Christmas Day

Baby Jesus is born,

And through Our Savior

We can be born again daily;

Day by day each of us awakens,

Day by day the evil one tempts us,

Day by day Divine Mercy is victorious,

As we surrender to the God of Mercy,

As we trust the God of Goodness,

As we embrace the God of Love;

Thus, we are born again daily

If we choose life with Him,

So every day can be like

Christmas Day.

FIRST HOLY COMMUNION

It was a memorable day for me,

The greatest of my young life;

I still remember the class photo,

Me and another boy were the only

Ones dressed in suits of white,

And I loved wearing white

For the first time in my life.

Then inside the old church,

I recall wondering to myself

What Jesus would taste like;

When the time came to go forward,

I stood in line, and when our turn came,

We kneeled at the communion rail,

Waiting for the good God to come.

There He was, my Lord and my God,

And He was dressed in white too;

I meekly opened my small mouth

To welcome the King of Kings,

And then Baby Jesus was gently

Placed by His Holy Mother

On the manger of my tongue.

THE VINE

You are The Vine,

and I am a little branch.

When I am proud,

I stubbornly cut myself

off from the Vine,

and I remain in self-love,

and without your grace

my branch dries out

and my fruit shrivels up,

as my soul slowly dies.

But when I am humble,

I remain in your love,

and your delicious grace

surges through me and

thus my fruit sweetens,

as I am born again.

I am just a little branch,

but you are The Vine.

THANKSGIVING

When we’re thanksliving,

We choose for living,

We choose for giving,

Lovingly for-giving.

Thanksgiving,

What a wonderful

Gift from God,

It seems to me like

An inexhaustible 

Spiritual ocean of the

Dazzling, magnificent

Divine Mercy.

When we’re living,

In thanksgiving to God,

We’re living for giving,

Lovingly for-giving.

THE DOVE

The Holy Spirit,

The Light of the Universe,

Travels at the speed of eternity,

And when He passes through

The Sacred Heart of Jesus,

The Dove of Divine Mercy is

Transfigured into dazzling rays

Of red and white that pierce

My soul and energize it with

The Holy Lightning of Love.

THE FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT

Our fruit is very sweet,

And He is very happy,

When we remain attached

To the one true Vine.

Joy warms us with light,

Peace conquers fear,

Patience stops time,

Kindness multiplies smiles.

Generosity feeds the world,

Faithfulness makes us a Church,

Gentleness purifies the heart,

Self-control shuts out darkness.

But Love, yes Love, wondrously

Binds them all together into

Majestic harmony as our souls

Drink of the Lord’s Divine Mercy.

SUSANNAH AND THE ELDERS

Inspired by Pompeo Batoni’s masterpiece

The lecherous elders saw her,

with eyes wanton and wicked

they saw the lovely Susannah

as she innocently bathed in the

warm water of the silent garden,

but when she rejected the lurid

scheme of these unjust judges,

their vicious vile hearts burned

with lust and anger, and so

they perniciously plotted to

melt down her golden reputation

in the fiery furnace of calumny;

but still, she trusted,

Susannah trusted in God --

then, the Spirit of the Lord rushed

upon a youth named Daniel

who, though very humble,

spoke with the authoritative

passion of the prophets of old,

and his wondrous wisdom

amazed the people who listened --

and, lo, in the twinkle of an eye,

Justice struck down the elders

like a holy hammer from Heaven.

DAVID AND GOLIATH

Inspired by Caravaggio’s masterpiece

David, youthful and ruddy, 

God’s brave little warrior,

Bends over to see the stupefied 

Expression on Goliath’s face;

The beheaded giant attempts to

Utter one last word to the victor,

But the smooth stone piercing

His bloody brain prevents him;

The future king is as calm and

Collected as a sage prophet,

Truly he is God’s holy champion,

The faithful and fearless one.

TO ST. PAUL

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. FRANCIS DE SALES

Born in the breathtaking majesty of the Alps,

you became the Bishop of Geneva most brave;

You fought bloodless battles against the Calvinists,

and your gentle eloquence many souls did save.

Others preached with a barrel full of vinegar,

and for their listeners this wasn’t at all funny;

But you had the sense to sweeten your sermons

with the most delightful and delicious honey.

In your classic book you show us, the laity,

how to make our ordinary lives a success;

Teaching us to find God in the present moment,

our worried minds are relieved of great stress.

THE ARMOR OF GOD

The Dark One

Attacks me,

So I put on the 

Armor of God,

And live the fruits

Of the Spirit:

Thanksliving,

And I am safe;

This quick shift

From offense

To defense,

Helps me to 

Hold my ground

On Jesus the Rock.

THE ISRAELITES DRINKING THE MIRACULOUS WATER

Inspired by Jacopo Bassano’s masterpiece

Just a moment ago,

before I struck the rock,

the people used their mouths

to stone me with sarcasm,

to run me through with ridicule,

to crucify me with cruelty --

but if they would see You here,

the Holy One, the great I AM,

they would never do this to You;

yet now, with those same mouths,

they thirstily drink the water,

refreshing their parched throats,

strengthening their tired bodies --

but what they really need,

what they really and truly need,

to refresh and purify their souls,

is Your gracious gift of Living Water,

an endless ocean of Divine Mercy.

TWO SHAKESPEAREAN SOLILOQUIES ON LIFE

To be

Or not to be,

That is the question:

Whether ‘tis nobler

For Mommy to surrender

To the slings and arrows of

Sacrificial love,

Or by aborting,

End me.

To die from guilt while

contemplating abortion:

To sleep, to sleep

No more!

Perchance to have dreams --

Or eternal nightmares --

Of what I am about to do

To my innocent baby;

When I have shuffled off

The mortal coil of his

Umbilical cord and

Allowed him to be

Dis mem ber ed,

I dread something worse

Than death: Hell,

The undiscovered country;

Thus, conscience can make

Heroes of us all --

Soft you now,

It’s never too late,

So my fair baby shall live

In the compassionate arms

Of The Divine Mercy.

MOSES SAVED FROM THE WATERS

Inspired by Jacopo Robusti Tintoretto’s masterpiece

A lonely little baby in a basket

floats freely in the current of

the Nile River, his brown eyes

wandering to and fro, innocently

wondering where his mother is;

the Spirit delicately leads the

young one towards his new home,

and in a short time the babe feels

his journey come to a gentle halt;

when the basket opens, he looks up

and sees a pretty face, but unlike

any that he has seen before, painted,

but with a light, elegant touch;

then the Egyptian woman’s

eyes open wide in wonder,

and her beautiful lips curve

into a warm, sweet smile,

and for the first time in

her life, she is in love.

JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BROTHERS

Inspired by Antonio Castillo Saavedra’s masterpiece

Stripped of his ornamental tunic

By his jealous, impulsive brothers,

Joseph sits cramped inside a dry well,

As if inside a cavernous dungeon,

Bewildered, like a lost lonely sheep; 

Then, he’s startled by a falling rope --

He instinctively grips it and

Suddenly, he’s jerked upwards,

His eyes observing the misty clouds

That seem to be swirling in confusion

Above him in the cold dark sky;

After being yanked out of the well

And thrown roughly to the ground

By one of his very own brothers,

He wearily looks up at an 

Astonished Midianite merchant,

Who carefully looks him over

With a shrewd business-like eye

Before buying him, on the spot, 

For a bargain of twenty shekels;

As Joseph slowly walks alongside

This cheerful good-natured trader,

He wonders what God’s plans will be

For him in the distant land of Egypt.

THE SACRIFICE OF ISAAC

Inspired by Paolo Veronese’s masterpiece

Abraham simply can’t wait any longer:

His heavy heart thunderously thumps

Deep down inside his big broad chest, 

And his body trembles with terror.

He hesitates as if he is hopelessly lost,

As if wandering in a wasteland of worry,

Yet when he closes his weary eyes,

He finds God’s gift of faith in his heart.

Little Isaac gazes upward towards the sky,

Wondering why the clouds are so grey,

He completely trusts his good father,

And knows not his own impending doom.  

Abraham’s hopeful hand grips the knife,

Then very slowly, and ever so silently, 

He raises its bloodless blade in the air,

Preparing for the swift stroke of death. 

But an angel in white stops him and 

Abraham’s body crumbles to the ground,

Like fallen fragments of unleavened bread,

And Divine Mercy warmly smiles upon him.

SATURN

As the stunning jewel of our solar system,

  the planet Saturn reigns in regal splendor,

Ringed by its exquisite, elegant crown,

  its yellow-gold complexion is unparalleled;

Angels casually coast around the rainbow rings

  as Saturn swiftly spins in glee,

Twirling atop God’s invisible index finger, this

  planet humbly reflects the beauty of the good God.

THE TOWER OF BABEL

Inspired by Frans Francken II’s masterpiece

The people were far more

advanced in technology than

their predecessors, and they

built a tower soaring to the skies;

their minds were filled with

grand new dreams of progress,

and each of them envisioned

a great new world in which

their creative ingenuity

would supply all of their needs --

they no longer needed God.

The Spirit slowly circled overhead,

saddened that He had been

forgotten by the people,

so He sighed deeply, wishing

His children to know how much

they needed Him, wishing

them to know how greatly and

how passionately He loved them;

so He withdrew and gave them

what they wanted: independence --

and then they babbled like idiots.

Why are dust and ashes proud?

Why is it that we accomplish

great things, and then we

forget the One who gave us

the gifts in the first place?

Even stubborn donkeys

understand that although

they wear a very beautiful

diamond-studded saddle,

it is absolutely nothing that

they earned or deserved.

THE DELUGE

Inspired by Francis Danby’s masterpiece

Far, far away,

on the stormy grey sea,

Noah’s grand wooden ark

slowly and gently bobs

up and down, up and down,

in the waves of Divine Mercy,

but as I turn to the right,

my heart stops when I see

dark cascades of rain all around,

pouring madly out of the turbulent

black clouds like cool liquid lava.

I stand atop what was once a tall

mountain, surrounded by the

devastating deluge and flood,

and clusters of screeching

men and women encircle me,

clinging like crabs to the wet rocks,

but many have already fallen

into the swirling sea below and

clutch desperately to the feeble

branches of submerged oak trees,

hoping the tempest will cease.

Only hours later, I’m the only

survivor, but I won’t last much

longer since the water is up to my

waist, and it is more and more

difficult to maintain my hold of the

wet boulder I’ve been sitting on all

day, and as I hopelessly look

around, I only see grey water and

black skies, and the relentless rain

that brings with it God’s justice.