The Warmest Place

 On that cold Christmas Eve we stood in the cold

Our eyes fixed upon the nativity scene

Mama prayed for Father to come home

No doubt my brother Tommy prayed for a bike

I prayed that my mother finds her smile

We havent seen it for so long

Baby Jesus must have been listening

Because I heard Mama laugh as she watched a little boy climb in the manger crib

The warmest place on earth

Red

 He's just a man and God made plenty of them

Pull the trigger

Clear your mind

This is your job

Red coats us inside and out

My hands white

Should be red

Pull the trigger

Pull the trigger

No bullets

Gun falls to the ground

I mutter a prayer I learned as a child

My turn to be at someone's mercy

Silk Scarf

 Silk around my neck

I love the feeling

Now gently squeeze

Squeeze till there's a blur

Above me are beams

From a table, 

I fix the silk around the beam

And attach it to my neck

I almost jumped

Thorns twisted to make a crown

Appear on a man

Sadness for him pierced my heart

I removed the silk from my neck

Knelt down in tears

Through my tears and sorrow I prayed

Hope

 Christmas lights blind me as I walk down the street

Don't feel like Christmas

Not with my toyshop, my little business shut down

Picking up cans of soup and beans and bags of fruit was the task of the day

Now I walk

Craving beer

Afraid once I start I wont stop

Of course I can't afford the stuff no how

So I walk

Walked till my legs bout gave out

Needing rest, I followed a man inside a church

The interior painted my soul, dark

Turns out the man I followed was a priest

"God be with you, my son"

"God ain't with me, lost everything this year. Can't even afford food."

"Yes, hard times are upon us, but Our Lord weeps with us."

He lit a purple candle on the alter

"People rarely come to church, I fear this place may shut down."

Together we shed a tear

His agony and mine weren't too different

"That candle I lit represents hope. People out there are celebrating consumerism, not Christmas. In hear we are awaiting the birth of Christ."

Hope

The Fire Within Me

 I cower in my house

Afraid to acknowledge my faith

I sowed a tiny crucifix and a miraculous medal in the ligning of my coat

The whispering wind tells a tale of an old man  taken to the hospital 

He was beaten nearly half to death for praying the rosary in public

I knelt down and cried 

Is that the extent of my devotion to Christ?

In my shame, I walk the beaten path, rosary in hand asking for Our Lady's intercession

I pray in silence, but I do it in public

Maybe the fire will grow in me and the faithful rise up to  set fire to the world

Prayer Before the Game

 It's 45 degrees out

The coldest morning of early fall

In the far left of the field,

The players kneel along with their coach 

And ask for the blessings of our Lord

Invisible

 What is it about me that makes people run?

The polite questions and pleasant hellos are for them

When I ask a question, any question it never seems to get answered

The walls swallow me whole

No since screaming

No one will hear me

The Holy Spirit comes to me in the rain

And reminds me of my friends in heaven

Suffering for the Wrong Reasons

 Suffering is good

Righteous

But how do we know when its not working?

When our suffering fills us with hate and doubt

When we turn inwards because it's safe

When suicidal thoughts consume us

When we seek the approval of others and not God

Shrine

 Death and destruction seem imminent

Bombs are getting more frequent

The crops are failing, the animals are dying

I dream of flying

Seeing the world at my feet

Up there it is peaceful

At eight years of age, I am comfortable with the possibility of death, so long as heaven awaits me

With a defeated face and a hopeful heart

We walk, mother and daughter to the shrine

My father built it, a the priest was house arrest

Kneeling on pebbles we pray the Angelus each day

Asking Our Lady to stop the war

Most days I don't see the point

But at eight, I don't have the wisdom of a priest, a sense of duty like a father, nor a heart like a mother

Woman Ironing

I woke up believing it was a different time
A quieter time
A time when silence inspires us
A time when families spent time with each other
Then I saw the date
The Church linens are fully dry
Although the priest won't be needing them for quite some time
I iron
And look out the window as children play and mothers sing

The Mill

$2.19 for a day's wage
I work all day risking limbs, barefoot
For what, a loaf of bread and 2 potatoes
Somehow this ain't right
I'm ready to get married, have babies
You tell me, how am I supposed to find a husband
No time but Sunday to talk a man
I dream of marrying a preacher
Of course, I'd still be poor
But, people would look up to me
Want to shake my hand
Not look at me as if I were a discarded piece of thread
Two days ago
A little girl came into the mill
She was so tiny, she looked like a doll
All smiles
I wish she were mine to dress up
She died that day
Something went wrong
No one cried, not then anyway
Everyday I pray to make it to Sunday
The only day I got no fear

Value and Lace

I grew up in this orphanage
My parents, I can't even remember their faces
The sisters did the best they could
We were fed, clothed, sheltered
They made sure they kept just tidy
The best thing they did was teach me to sew
Upon graduation, I knew how to make lace
Not a bad skill
I may come from nothing, be nothing
But the sisters taught us about value
Value for ourselves and others
We all belong to God
And with this skill, I will teach another little girl about value as we lace together
And a wave will continue

Letter to the Maid of Orlean

This has been a tough year
No school
No friends
Family shows little interest
And then there's the sickness
Obsessions on the obscure have transferred over to a fever and cough
But she is not sick
We are not sick
At night she says she wants to be a nun
 Today her frustration are rising
I tell her to ask St Joan of Arc to pray for her
She writes a letter
I am forbidden to read it
The letter goes in the mailbox headed for heaven

The Scream

Goblin screams in pain
But what can I do?
A frightened being such as myself can do nothing
I am small with no strength
So I chose to shut my door
My work must be finished
There are deadlines
The screams wont stop
Someone put it out if its misery
If I had a weapon I would
Straight through the heart
For a few moments there was silence
Sweet silence
But it was short lived
Screams return
Will someone make it stop
After pacing for hours
I go to the king
Rant about this goblin and the screams and how I fear for the kingdom.
I don't know what I expected
The goblin's death
A reward
A room at the palace for my pitiful attempt at protecting the kingdom.
Instead he gave me a cup of tea
Told me to release the goblin
Dress his wounds
You and the goblin are equally my servants

Sleeping Child

As you sleep, I sing a lullaby
Most of the words I don't know, so I hum the tune
I ponder this day what my world would be like without you
No screaming fits
No midnight vomiting
No rushing to the hospital
But then there would be no
Joy
Late night giggles
Nightly prayers
More importantly, without you I would still be in the desert
The desert of doubt
The desert of anger and longing
Longing for peace, a sense of belonging,
Jesus

Power of Prayer

Everyday I ask God to let me go
Guess he don't want that
Still here
I can't work, so food is scarce
Headaches won't go away
Every week someone comes to check on me
Today is was someone young
Don't think she ever saw a beat up soldier like me
She cleaned, made dinner, and then prayed
They always pray
I silently listen
She was different
She felt what she was praying and clung to her beads like it was a life jacket
She left but the beads stayed
I only knew the first two words of the prayers
But those words seemed to make all the pain go away

An Easter People

We are an Easter people
Praises to God fall from our lips
Yes, there is destruction and heartache
Hunger and despair
Yet, as Easter people we are always looking to God
Hope never leaves our hearts

Alleluia

Alleluia! Alleluia!
For He who died on the cross
Is Risen
Alleluia!

Empty Tomb

I came to bring lilies
I came to bring oil
I came to weep
The stone has been removed
All that is left is his burial shroud
Where have they taken my Lord?

Washing my Feet

I had been walking for days
My heels were laced with blood
Pain, my friend never left me
Worse than the pain was stench
Yet, you smiled and washed my feet
It was the kindest act anyone has showed me

Spy Wednesday

Oh the wicked things we do for a few coins
Is it our fault, really?
We are told money is good and will solve problems
But will you have salvation?
Perhaps you should ask Judas Iscariot

Beast of Burden

No person of honor would ride on you
Beast of burden is your job description
Until that fateful day, your only job was to carry items from market to market
Then a gentle man appeared
He had a task for you like no other
You were to be his steed through the gates
It was a perfect job
For a day you got to feel like a horse
It wasn't until that gentle man hung on the Cross that his identity was revealed
King of kings

Broken

Where is a broken woman to go
Into the arms of another man
I say throw yourself at the foot of the Cross
Your pain is not a punishment, but an invitation
In time your cross will cease to inflict pain

Telling Mother

With our heads down, we tell mother
The pearl necklace is broken
The pearl necklace she wears to mass each Sunday
The pearl necklace that was going to be passed down to the first if us to get married.
What will happen to us?
We were not trying to hurt her
We just wanted to play
Ours face was one of disappointment and tenderness
She pulled us into her arms and whispered
You two are my most precious jewels.

The Lady

Armed, we were ready to kill each other
Nothing personal
Just following orders
In battle numbness consumed and only one thought took over
Kill or be killed
I saw him
With my rifle raised I was about to take him out
But the bright light
With my fingers splayed across my face I looked at that light
It was lady, beautiful, haunting
She had a calmness and a motherly beauty you only read about.
Her hand reached out as if to hold us
The killing stopped that day
Many walked away from battle
At least I did
Now everyday I seek that lady

Girl Knitting

Outside the world is in chaos

Every fifth person dead

People scrubbing germs away in the hopes of fighting off the beast

Unemployment, abuse, alcohol

If you are looking for a career, choose mental health

We're all going to need it

The crimes haven't started yet

Yet

Breathing is our only job

In a small corner, shut off from fear a girl knits

Beauty in the Gutters

At my lowest, I thought only of what I didn't have
Husband
Money
Job
Home
Love
Then staring at the gutter I saw something
A white rose that had been dipped in pink
The stem was broken, and the rose had been stepped on, but the beauty remained
Beside the rose was a medal with a lady on it
I picked up the medal hope it would bring me luck
No not luck, a miracle

Gathering Snowdrops

What is so innocent now was quite naughty back then
Three little girls all age seven snuck out of the house while on lockdown
They met at a field by the lake
There were giggles, stories, jokes, and wishes
They picked little white flowers they named snowdrops
And dreamed of a happier time.

St Lawrence

My first big meal
How are you going to handle it?
I was asked that by no less than fifteen people, the exact number I must feed
I'm not concerned
It'll all work out
It always does in the end
A week was spent buying ingredients
Only one cookbook was opened
Now the big day
I look at the shrine of St Lawrence
It's been passed down for generations
I cross myself before turning on the oven and stove

Winter Morning

Frozen lake
Children beg to skate on the ice
But we are here to work
Water is needed and the meat is gone
The lake, though frozen has fish
Tonight, we will feast

The Marking

If you should look for me
You'll find me by the marking
Today is the feast of the Epiphany
So I've marked the door
Please come find me, my love
I was so foolish to send you away
The ramblings of a selfish woman
Wanting things instead of love
Your heart was an immense treasure
But I wanted a piano
It wasn't in the budget
It is so cold, even by the fire
I yearn for you
Your heart, your gentleness
All those things
Those useless things,  all sold
Please come find me

Request

The moon is overhead

And so are the stars

She strokes my hair

What is your prayer request tonight?

I don't know.

There must be something to ask God for

Of course there is

There's always something to ask for

Health for daddy

The war to end

A teaching job for the fall

I took a deep breadth

My Lord, please send me a husband.

She hugged me close

I'm not ready to let you go so soon

Happy Death

So many things left undone
So many people I pushed aside
Now in this cold room I am about to expire
What will happen on the other side?
There is nothing left to do, but pray
So with barely a whisper,
I ask for St Joseph's intercession
Grant me a happy death

Bridal House

There's an empty hook for your coat
A padded bench by the window
I know how you love to read
Fresh flowers on the table
A quilt made by my mother is folded on the bed
It isn't much
Only one room
But it's yours
Ours, my bride

Confession

What started off as a History lesson
Ended in a confession of love
I hide behind my hands
Does she not see the wrinkles on my face
In twenty years I will be an old man
My old body will give out on me
Abandonment will be my final act
My knees ache from all the praying
Is this what my Lord delivers
Anthony, Anthony, say something
Silence
Anthony
My tears tell her everything

Wedding Day Bombing

The white dress my mother made for me
Now is covered in soot
My husband with blood above his brow
Lays at the foot of the altar
Rumble blankets us
Husband and wife
Was this how it was in Pompeii
Rome
Constantinople
The rosary I gripped so tightly
Is now broken
Broken like me

Proposal

It was five degrees that day
With an open collar you came towards me
I was shivering so
Your embrace took me by surprise
Chaste though it was
Right there on the street we confessed our love
As the wind picked up we walked to a church
On bent knee he asked my heavenly father for my hand