This is a poem I wrote for Fr. Raph’s 90th birthday this spring. Last night - 29 October 2020 - he died truly in the fullness of years, in the prayerful company of his brothers at the Abbey, and so I re-send this as my poor valedictory for him on his happiest birthday of all:
You look into the mirror and ask yourself “Who is that old man staring back at me?” Your friends tell you you’re lookin’ good - for your age And your uncooperative body in protest creaks
But you and all of them are wrong because
You still approach the Altar as a child As you once were, and are, and will be forever For God will have it so, will have you so - Enchanted by His magic - a little boy
A little boy in Sunday shoes and shirt Who hears his Mama whispering to him, “Don’t squirm!” As the Mass hums through a summer morning Until that moment when you encounter Him:
The universe spirals through its sunlit dance Creation spins around, in, and down Eternity circles the paten and cup
Miraculum
Eternity circles the paten and cup Around and out and up, Creation spins Through its sunlit dance the universe spirals
And only little children understand that And only little children are invited And so God gives joy to your forever-youth And your forever-youth gives joy to God