Word Pieces V

Our Director

proud to have put in
your heart beat
proud to have breathed
every crescendo
you turn at the end with
a wry smile of knowing
and bow to an audience
with no hands

panic tears begin to cry
so quickly look into
their eyes to see if
you touched anyone
only to find empty gazing
sockets staring in the
distant void of
"did you hear anything?"

speak to me with no tongue
either to sound an affirmation
of touching

go off stage now
turn without a love glance
never to know if the sound
of singing stirred
even one heart
even moved one to stop
before making the
Great Exit

Something

The God of my soul keeps
writing on my mind
Making the least of something
more than anything
And nothing at least
something

Golgotha

out of the all most
all way geometric
world is golgatha
waiting in diamond
star shapes to re
form a cubist world
whose heart is all
together where the
mind should be

The Great Conductor

Search out a new song in your souls
O ye people of dischord
find the intonation of God
in a canticle of deep peace
Look all else but here
where only muffled cries and
broken heartbeats mingle to create
the cacaphony of the creatures of darkness
A musical metamorphosis presses
hard on the now time
calling on the dirge
the song of the Composer
Give in to the chaos which is always
just before the beginning of a symphony
and find yourself one and the same
as the song itself

Meditation

silence....
the preparatory beat
just before the beginning
of the great

Cross Studies

Cross studies
(obscure theological dance steps)
soothe a guilty heart
for not being
what
we say
we are
empty hard bound copies
which no man can count
pages of blank
verses of more
Cross references
to a silent wheel chair ballet
to lines in the staging of mute plays
to notes never heard or written
to vacant heart canvasses (all)
waiting for the Michaelangelic
touch of life on the face of Adam

Monastic Daze

Then knock three times
"Let us Bless the Lord"

Breakfast is a solemn occasion of listening
to corn flakes get soggy in a bed
of milk and sugar
is there hope for change?
is there another way to answer the call?
(and for this we take from others)

At Chapter we look out the frosted prison
windows (cold feet)
listening again to the guardian list our
faults (we all have our appointed
tasks) as we wish to be on the Interstate
fighting other normal people for a place
in the world

After Chapter making my bed
I find tears on the sheet wishing that
once just one would call or drop a line
to say that it works
My son is off drugs
My daughter is cured
We have found the joy of belief
Just once it would feel good to get a check
of our worth
a receipt for our goods delivered

Later there is joy - so they told us
in cleaning the dirt off the windows
if you are doing it for God

At noon the sickening smell of peanut butter
soup mixes with candle smoke from the chapel
as we gather to offer more prayers for
the people still looking for a parking
place in the city
Holy Mary Mother of God mixes her rhythm
with the noonday psalms
we pray again for people we haven't seen
to a God we haven't heard for a
good long while

More silence (the lesser) and a nap provides
escape from the rhythm of nothing
walk brother, walk to the harbor down
to speak in silence

As the sun moves to the other side of the sky
it is difficult to write thank you
cards to the hundreds of faithful who
sent a portion of their retirement checks
so that we can have a place and a time to
write them thank you cards
assure them that it is all right and good and
holy to give to the
Order of quiet motion

How much longer now to Vespers
and dinner over small talk
and the evening news
(it is good to hear how the world is doing
at least once a day)

A clearing
some time between the news and the old rigor
an all pervading peace eases in like the
morning fog spreading a soft blanket on
my bed of nails
for some special few moments I am full
of the quiet peace of believing
now it really doesn't matter
the dirty laundry
the soggy corn flakes
the windows that need cleaning
or even the multitude who didn't write
knowing comes without fanfare
believing comes without a song

We gather in slow motion for Compline
to put our souls gently to rest
Be sober, be watchful, your adversary the
devil prowls around like a roaring lion
seeking someone to devour

Back bedside the old cold feeling of disbelief
mixes with the warmth of pulling
up the covers alone

Hail Mary full of grace
Sleep give rest to the weary
Soothe the suffering
Amen

Then knock three times
"Let us Bless the Lord”