In the sallow sea of sable ink
that breaks upon my splintered prow,
fire beacon’s beam a-lightly winks
and casts gold light upon my brow.

I see a man walk on the swells
and wave to me through sheets of sleet,
his silver voice a tolling bell
that beckons me to take the leap.

His shining rope crests upon the waves
that rend my vessel in tempest flares:
Across black brine the lifeline sways —
My callused hand will take its dare

to grasp the line that more life gives
and feel its pull to once more live.

Two thousand years and miles away
a foretold child was to poverty born.
A tyrant willed to keep his sway
and murdered children in his scorn.

The child would live to preach a love
that surpasses the smallness of our minds;
The despot now dwells in a dim-lit grove
of shattered urns and skeletal time.

That child became a man of words
which fell upon unhearing ears —
They twist his love to sharpened swords.
To a tree he’d be nailed: hyssop tears.

Yet though he too had died alone
like the despot who’d hunted him,
his message of love has only grown
in spite of new despots grim.

A tale of two kings in memory:
One turned to dust, one love’s victory.

A blanket black across the sky:
The ice-ringed moon lights backs of sheep.
We see our breath and hear the sighs
of gathered cattle that we here keep.

There in the dark on pasture fields
while we watch over our huddling sheep,
a silver seraph, her wings revealed,
now rouses us from the darkness’ deeps.

She opens up her thousand wings,
reveals a blaze of gilded flame,
cold air around us begins to sing
in tempest that her fire proclaims.

Our hearts now race, our eyes are blind
from searing light and disbelief:
in cowering terror we take our flight
and quiver as a quaking leaf.

Out of the cauldron of light she made
comes forth a voice of gold lyre strings:
Dear shepherds, my friends, don’t be afraid
for I am herald of glad tidings.

And all around, piercing the dark,
come further blazes of wings and song,
each calling to us to rest and hark
to this gathering radiant throng.

Their whirlwind song swells to a peak,
of peace and glory in highest heights.
We long to see of which they speak:
the wonder of this night of nights.

Their chorus gleams and softly fades;
the embers of our hearts now glow.
We stand in awe of what they said
and feel our veins with warm hope flow.

We see a star rise in the west:
To the birthplace of a shepherd king
we walked in peaceful silence past
the watchful stars a-twinkling.

Along the path to newborn babe
are brambles, barren bushes’ thorns
that by the light the angels made
bring forth red roses with gold adorned.

Thus from the shards of broken worlds
comes sudden hope in wings unfurled.

What a beautiful way to start the day
To spend an hour with Jesus
To give him my joys and challenges
And see Him how he sees us
To see him is to know him
To know him is to love him
To love him and be loved by him
There is nothing better
In Heaven or on Earth
Bread from Heaven the original Wheaties(TM)
It truly is the breakfast of champions
It gives me the strength I require
It gives me the tools I need to succeed
And it gives me the grace to inspire

I truly believe that of all the wonderful gifts God has bestowed upon us (and there are many!) the greatest is the ability to create. Not just things, but life itself. The very act of creating/creation is to bring to life. It is Love (invisible and immaterial) made manifest (physical expression) in a very real way. The question to ask is: do my words and thoughts and actions speak life? Or do they destroy? Do they bring myself and others up? Or do they bring them down? Jesus is the Word Made Flesh, the Living Word and Bread of Life. For me, what sticks out to me that I am creating in my life is writing. Creating poetry and prayers that are inspired by the creator and shared with many by words of hope, comfort, peace, love, joy, etc. In my case, what I am creating very much reflects what I believe. When I eventually leave this earth; God willing many years from now, I want my legacy to be that I created or tried to create a little better and a little brighter world and future for our children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and all of our youth. I want to be remembered by how I lived and how I loved. What are you creating, what do you want to create, and what will be your legacy?

From the ***** where a child is fed – the essence of their identity
woven by what a father has said; I carry the faith of my mother,
often shadowed by my father's scepticism. I find myself gazing into
the reflective gaze of a taxi driver, contemplating the tapestry of my
past—insecurities gnawing at my resolve as clasped hands rest in the
back seat. I catch fleeting glimpses of my youthful, innocent laughter
—frozen in time, a testament to pure love captured in a photograph;
a reminder of the paths we trod in pursuit of our dreams.

My creator had named me a rare and radiant pearl, a pearl growing
in the oyster womb of a mother — His love mirrored in that precious
gem as I navigate a crowded life, where strangers step on your toes.

Upon my shoulders, the weight of the world is not meant to rest—
where attempts to quench my thirst yield only the bitterness of ash.
Yet, the fire of my aspirations flickers brightly in my gaze—do I dare
to pursue love with courage?

Indeed, that spark ignites into a flame, and that flame transforms
into an all-consuming love— His love, an all-consuming love.

                                                        ­I am loved.

The bleak sable night:
Leaden blanket drapes the world —
Supernova hope

Back in the days of our innocent youth
With Christmas a strict institution
The story was shared as indelible truth
Enough to suppress evolution

Remember the Wise Men who travelled
To witness the birth of the King
But mythology slowly unraveled
Replaced by some bells on a string

Remember the days of the shepherds
When angels and elders conspired
When prophets laid hands on the lepers
But lately so few are inspired

Back in the days of the loaves and the fishes
A rabbi gave sight to the blind
He’s not what we’d label ambitious
But he suffered as he was designed

Back in the times of the Goddess
The giver of life and of grains
We honor the cycles she taught us
Those patterns survive in our brains

Remember there’s seasons for living
To harvest and seasons to sow
For death and for birth and thanksgiving
Just a handful of stages to know

In the fullness of time, you will find what you seek
You will, at last, stand atop that great high peak
There will come a day when all doubt is wiped away
The pieces all fall into place and the picture becomes clear
You know, with great certainty, that this is meant to be
But now is not that moment. The time is not yet now
So, we must patiently wait and abide in the Lord
Until he says: now, the moment you've been waiting for!
In the fullness of time, we shall see our King
One day we shall know him and know him well
We will have the fullness of time to praise and sing
To ask who and what and why and how
But it's not today, it's not quite now
And so, this time, we must depend
On the prayers of holy women and men
And ask for their intercession on our behalf
Take comfort: all is revealed in the fullness of time
All sight becomes clear in the fullness of time

Lord, you turned my life around
When you brought me out of the ground
You breathed on me Spirit and Life
And raised me to the higher height
Spirit and Life are your words
Its song is echoed by the birds
I am touched by your love Oh Lord
From your Sacred Heart outpoured
I am moved by the grace you have given
Taken from the dead to the land of the livin'
So inconceivable that you were back
But when you came, I about had a heart attack
Now I stand before you deeply moved
You gently take my hand as it is proved
That you are alive, and it is really you
I stand before you with my hand in your side
And I feel your heart opened wide
I touched my Lord's Most Sacred Heart
And, for me, his work he has set apart