Photo N Federle: Egrets in Suisun Marsh, 2019
Bathe me in light, with warm
water wash, submerge
my submissive head,
my face, my hands,
my wayfaring feet.
Oh, cleanse me!
prepare me
to walk
into your perfect
day.
Morning fog
caressed
my winter tears
as unseen geese
(noisy gaggle)
crossed the opaque sky.
Things well hidden
confuse
my fragile faith,
so when bright, piercing rays
broke through
this lonely vale of tears
I thought it was only the sun
not the golden light,
desire of my fleeting years.
Image: Solomon Raj
From deep inside
I heard them,
howling hatred
lashing me with my own hands
gashing the rocky tombs
with my own bloody feet.
Late at night
they cursed and fought
deep inside
my aching skull.
I was their prisoner,
and they were many…
But then I saw Him by the lake
and my soul leapt
even as Legion arose
as with my ragged voice they raged,
“what will you do to us?”
but my soul cried louder,
“Save me!”
Hearing us both,
He drove the dark spirits
from my unclean breast
and into the beasts….poor swine.
Madness cast them
into death’s deep pit….
but I could hear only
silence.
Peace
filled me.
My hand moved
only when I commanded,
and what my eyes saw
I clearly viewed.
The people of the village
fearing a man who could
compel demons,
begged Him to leave.
Blind fools!
If only they could see Him
as I do.
As he was going, I begged to go too
and stay forever in the light
of his face.
But this grace
was not
for me alone…
He told me to go
and proclaim without fear
how His love saved me
from my soul’s dark night,
and led me here,
into paradise.
(18 Feb 2013)
Wind stirs in expectation; it
softly strokes my face.
The March sun reassures me,
warms pale flesh
through layers of thick sweater
and winter coat.
Under indigo hills
new grass flows,
yellow and green,
as past distant ranges,
to the sky-bright, rounded sea
he flees and sends us
a gift of clouds,
aflame
in glory.
Peace be with the grass of the fields!
Peace
to dark hills and drifting clouds,
and to the sacrificial sun
peace!
A voice said, “Cry aloud!”
and I said, “But what shall I cry?”
Shall I sing to the people
a song of spring,
hills aflame with green,
dry grass igniting
with joy?
In darker days,
when the high meadow fell fallow
and flowers of the valley
dried to dust,
I thought you’d turned
away, took your giving hands
to other lands.
Despairing, I wept,
stung by tears
from angry Hell,
and doubted
your love.
Oh, forgive me, pity your child
and make your enduring rain fall
on the riotous grass,
on the bold crocus
and passionate
rose.
Photo Brian Federle: On the Pacifica Path, 2014
Photo by Brian Federle, Hawaii, 2016.
Dark mountains rise
to meet the sun.
Night drops
to the western sea.
Skyward
lifting joy to heaven
as dark waves clash
washing clean the past —
all pain subsides,
fulfilled.
“What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy.” Thomas Merton
+
deep in the cathedral
love resounds
through the bright air
of paradise
love rebounds
playful, full of
prayer.
Oh, hear the organ’s
profundo ring
laughter
as love pierces
your living heart
as, prostrate,
love breaks open
your breathless soul.
(18 November 2013 on the ordination of my brother)