I’m like a ridiculous painted clown,
Juggling to-do’s, up and down and
Back and forth, my life is a frantic
Intertwining of past, present, future,
In a tangled jungle of multitasking,
Weighed down by the heavy stress
Of guilt over my imperfect past and
Of worry over unknown tomorrows;
But life is so much easier when I
Zero in and focus on the great I AM,
Living perpetually in the present,
Juggling one little ball at a time:
Blessed are the single-hearted,
For they shall surely see God.
The Spirit of Love
Awakens in my heart
Like peppermint fire,
Burning away impurities,
Enlightening my mind,
Sweetening my soul.
The wild tempest is unleashed
and approaches us all at night,
Like a fierce, hungry cannibal,
it swallows the moon in a bite;
Awake, awake my dearest souls:
the near occasion of sin beware!
Away, away, while there’s still time,
before you are caught in a snare!
St. Joseph the Silent Knight,
Holy man of common sense,
You preached the gospel,
Though often without words,
If you had the knowledge,
You answered your neighbor,
If not, then through divine wisdom
You put your hand over your mouth;
Teach me how to hold my tongue,
To follow the Spirit’s lead,
Instead of getting in trouble
By rashly running ahead of Him;
It’s pleasant to converse,
But it’s far better to be prudent.
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.
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.
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.
Inspired by the writing of St. Augustine
Patience is the amber Light
Of our beloved soul;
When we impetuously
Want to speed through
The intersections of life
And just do what we want —
Not what God wants —
Then the red Light stops us,
So that we can recognize the danger;
Acting rashly, thoughtlessly,
Charging ahead of the Lord,
All of these cause nothing but trouble,
So the red Light gives us a little more time,
To ponder, to reflect, to pray,
So that when the Light turns green,
we can move and act
In God’s time, in God’s will;
For as St. Augustine wisely said,
Patience is the companion of wisdom.
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.
When we’re thanks-living,
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.
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.
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.
Blowing in the Spirit’s breeze,
Millions upon millions of
Beautiful blessings
Dangle from Heaven’s
Clustered clouds on
Silken cords.
A little freckle-faced boy
Raises his innocent prayer to God,
Hoping one day to become
A pro baseball player.
With great agility,
His guardian angel
Does a somersault in the air
And, like an all-star,
Catches the boy’s
Wild pitch.
He faithfully flies up to Heaven
And finds a large, palatial cloud
That is lined with the most
Glimmering gold, and under it
Is a pro baseball contract
Hanging quietly on its
Silken cord.
He gets ready to cut it,
But kneeling on a cloud nearby,
Our Lady ever so sweetly smiles
As she shakes her head at him,
Slowly, knowingly.
Then she playfully runs
Toward another cloud,
A little cloud,
Pointing at a poet’s pen
Filled with the creative ink of
Imagery and alliteration,
And it is dancing in the wind
On its silken cord.
Brimming with joy,
She eagerly looks back
Towards the throne and sees
A twinkle in the eyes of our
Heavenly Father as He happily
Nods yes to her.
So the guardian angel delicately
Snips that silken cord,
Like a cluster of grapes
Taken from The Vine.
About you we really don’t know a ton,
Except that you were Alphaeus’ son;
Why were you called James the Less?
Big James was a lot taller I guess;
Or maybe you were very humble,
Making Arrogance trip and stumble;
The Lord Jesus taught you to love,
To know His peace from way up above;
You faithfully spread the holy Word,
Unlike anything that was ever heard;
You’re the unknown mystery apostle,
But I bet your deeds were colossal.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.