TO ST. BERNADETTE OF LOURDES

Your magnificent story I will tell:

The wondrous Miracle of Massabielle;

Our Lady came in breathtaking beauty,

And she knew that you would do your duty;

You came before her as God’s little child,

And looking down on you, she warmly smiled;

She gently asked you to dig in the ground,

And there spring waters were suddenly found;

Cripples bathed in the stream with salty tears,

And walked away whole without any fears;

Then hardened hearts started to melt,

And before the good God they humbly knelt.

TO OUR LADY OF LOURDES

Your merciful and majestic eyes

   are dazzlingly modest,

Sparkling like radiant jewels

   of kindness and compassion;

Your serene smile swiftly

   steals my humble heart,

As you point me towards the

   path that leads to Jesus;

Your majestic mantle and sky-blue

   sash dance joyfully in the breeze,

Reflecting the mildness and the

   gentleness of the good God;

Your ladylike lips whisper    

   words of wisdom

That split the air like

   atomic loving lightning;

Your sweet, saintly actions

   ripple through the universe,

Like warm, welcoming waves

   of heavenly peace.

TO ST. JOHN VIANNEY

As a soldier you were really quite inept,

  And as a student you weren’t much,

Although the seminary gave you a chance,

  It seemed holy orders you’d never touch;

But when the good God takes charge,

  There’s nothing that He cannot do,

So through the intercession of Philomena,

  Grace most bountifully fell on you.

Sent to a corrupt village named Ars,

  You woke it up with fiery preaching,

People were flabbergasted by your words

  And threatened by your priestly teaching;

Yet in the little box of the confessional,

  You won a victory over selfish hearts,

Though the devil anxiously pursued you,

   God extinguished all his flaming darts.

So many made pilgrimages to see you,

  And confession lines were terribly long,

But through God’s grace you read their souls,

  Bringing hope to many in the throng;

Thus the devil grew angrier and angrier,

  That’s why the beast ranted and raved,

Still you won over many many souls,

  In God’s mercy they were finally saved.

TO SAN PADRE JUNIPERO SERRA

Why do some seek to erase

You from history’s chalkboard?

Why do they wish to cancel out

Your love for Native Americans?

In these deeply distressing times,

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. 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. 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.

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. 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 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS

A mystical priest, you are paradoxical:

Hated, you encountered Love,

Suffering, you experienced joy,

In trouble, you found peace,

Isolated, you surrendered in patience,

Maltreated, you felt kindness,

Kidnapped, you were generous,

Abandoned, you kept faith,

Abused, you replied with mildness,

Chaste, you were in ecstasy,

Unknown, you became famous,

Imprisoned, you found freedom,

In the dark night, you discovered Light.

TO SAN JUAN DIEGO

Humility was your middle name,

So at Tepeyac to you she came;

You really didn’t know what to say,

Your only thought was to stop and pray;

You became Our Lady’s holy slave,

Always trustworthy, and very brave;

You saw sweet roses out of season,

The Virgin gave them for a reason;

Then you brought them to the bishop’s place,

The people filled with God’s dazzling grace;

As at your tilma everyone gazed,

The most wondrous sign left all amazed.

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. 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 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 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 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.

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. 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. 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.

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. 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 baptized 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.