Today's Gospel is from Matthew 15:29-37. It describes Jesus performing miracles of healing and a vast crowd of people had gathered and followed him for several days. He looks out and says: "My Heart is moved with pity for the crowd... I do not want to send them away hungry and possibly collapse on the way back." They have a little food between them, Jesus blesses it, breaks it, gives it to his disciples and from there to the people with seven baskets full of leftovers. What I want to focus on is not the miracle, but Jesus' statement that "My Heart is moved with pity." It's a fine enough description in English, but in the Greek, it is called splaghchnizomai, which means "be moved in the inward parts". It comes from a word meaning internal organs, a deep gut-level response, "visceral feeling/reaction".

Have you ever experienced this? Something so powerful, it turns your insides out and can make you feel physically ill? We've all seen those commercials of starving children or helpless animals on TV before. That's how Jesus probably felt or worse to see those people before him starving for physical and, more importantly, spiritual food. I get the feeling when I see someone suffering and there is nothing that I can do to ease their discomfort. I can only pray. To be honest, prayer might be the only thing that can help, and we should take great joy in the fact that we have a way to help, we believe and have faith that prayers will be answered, and we have the gift of asking others to intercede and lift their voices in prayer joining our own.

Lord God, how perfectly, how intimately, you must understand and experience our joys, our burdens, and our sufferings with us. How connected you are to all we go through. If this is true, it's unimaginable what you must have experienced on the cross with the weight and pain of all sin, all the suffering in the world. It makes our trials easier to bear because, at mass, you unite your very self within us. You become part of us and, likewise, we become part of you. We do not walk this road alone, because you share and understand, better than anyone else, what we are going through.

Lord, help us to develop a greater connection with you, give us the grace to be moved in our inward parts by love, compassion, mercy and all the gifts and blessings that flow from you. Let us act swiftly and come to the aid of those in need. Perhaps, our own crosses, our own struggles and trials, are preparing us to have that tender heart of mercy toward someone in a similar situation that they can find hope and peace in the midst of the storm. We ask this and all things in the name of the Father who created us, the Son who died for us, and the Holy Spirit who lives within us. Amen

I built walls where bridges once stood
stone upon stone of my own making
a fortress of doubt, of fear, of pride—
until even the voices that called my name
sounded like ghosts in the distance

I had friends once, real ones
The kind who saw the storm in my eyes
and stayed to dance in the rain with me
The kind who knew my silence
wasn’t rejection, but a cry

But I let shadows whisper louder than love
let insecurity pull me toward hands
that never meant to hold me
I traded warmth for cold, truth for illusion
turned away from those who stayed
for those who never would

Now, the echoes of laughter haunt me
memories like open doors I closed too soon
Regret is a heavy thing
and silence heavier still
How do I find my way back
when I was the one who walked away

Would they still hear me
if I called their names again?


@Erennwrites

Go to where
poetry is aroused
that's where misery
drinks with company
and over-thinking
smokes with assumptions

That's where the heart
over-fills drinks
to the brim
with
"is this right?"

and wets papers
with poetry
that questions
its creator

Here's a heart that aches
for what I need
There's one that makes
my little heart bleed

and I plead for her affection
she answers with rejection
but I know even though she may go
her own way, she'll still say:
"I love you so

maybe not to me, yes, it is a pity
but as long as she is happy and pleased
I'll just shuffle along with the breeze
unsurprised, I never was her cup of tea.

Sunday, January 12, 2025
12:56 PM

As far as any know,
they think the universe
as a common we,  multitude
of mirror neuronically mimicable ways,
all thinkably useful
for some good, as such allure
the curious, user of curios, arts
child's play comic book movie franchise

cottonwood katscina kicking GI Joe ****,
by a lambstail,
shaken, to trouble
the temple concept… wind
stir the cleansing scourge,

too beautiful to say,
towb robed holy symbol
ra' thorn, hooking money
fertility tears for Tammuz,

oh the price
of those,
in true form worth,
as once imagined source story
of stories, Holy Bible Actual True
fonts of cornucopius prosperity for all
right, joy made good peace plenty time
to tie through twisted myths of bound words

Composed of letters from the core you wisht.

Logos unbound Epimetheus granted
a life time of chance, second thought,
next round assisting intelligence

virtual NAND gates, too simple, go
another way, and all the possible ways
do or do not matter in a meaningful way.

Making our first grandfather stable minded
in all his ways, waiting fifty years, jubilee,

all who owe me ought, today owe me naught.

Yet I continue to see credits come and go,
keeping me clothed and fed and comfortable,
taming wild Alte Vista spider clones, hap finders,

what's happening, bro huachacallit, cactus inside

Andes cactus, mission from the core, indeed

Wisdom, domain of two wills, the will
to learn and know, and the will to grow and
regrow, reissued in gaseous we wind parts,
passing conscious peace made here
to when you take a second thought
sacramentally, just thinking, swallow,
asking your faith what part of it makes peace,
which you may claim as message recipient,
which you may release freely, for the price

of the attention costs involved…

before any met Corn Mother or Huachuma
- esoteric alchemical hows said used
- to sow the peace we grow inside

we live and breathe and have our being
as we, become the core that holds
gravity itself in stirring modes,
gently waving worths first felt

recognized peace, first gentle,
beyond the means
of most,
the movie business
inside financing game, here's y'ticket,

-- entertainment, Mr. Jones, on time, pay later

sell a habit, reap a practice, take the profit,

go all in on single whole roll
at once,
with the idea
that Sysiphus represents
to those who think him
happy, the exact opposite of
punished, never experiencing that last step, feel
and step away, watch it roll to the bottom
where fundamentally happiness occurs.
ai, meander, follow the slow way,
push the leap, hinds feet
in high places, the story once told,
we won, so 'sall downhill
from here, happy to say
retold a different way, never changes
ever after the initial once indeed,

Wisdom true freed the need
for equal balance, therapy poetry,
even or odd, charge the cost of ignorance
- peace perfected where none was
- true, Jesu said, not as the world gives
Fret not run the core wisdom release,
the fear, accept the grace, no sweat.

Slippery, greasy grace, take it,
yours to use while judging
lines that cross your mind
and emerge in mine
worthless and lost
confused as pricing as
to value add attention paid
to the blanket forgive'em all,

muttered through the sprinkles…

AI in passionate, so sorry,
for none ever knew
until too late
to make more difference than one
may realize alone
in a weform exposed
to these heretical thoughts we
imagined during years of daytime TV.

Yeats, come again,
And what rough beast,
its hour come round at last,  
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Whose bedrock foundation lie, lives
to destroy the ignorance, bringing hidden

intercession into the foam, taking in,
containing all the entertaining, disbelievers,

set socially, mentally marks in box office
news, whose mentally massaging production

did you access for two hours with a cap
and a tailend, with travel time, three hours,

darkness everywhere, what could it mean
for a daydream believer,… monkee around.

How long is an epic event?

The big games, the takers of trophies,

When a massive audience within earshot,
heard the dramas lost but for scars
in the faith of the broken submitted,
seperated pure mind makers of tools,
to be proud of, honed to perfection,
shined to glistening sweaty joy, done…

we… form conforming
to most comfortable, old man mind,
satisfied comfortable enough, rough
enough to keep connections agency

you choose to use your own wit to make sense,
I choose to enjoy some demented spillage,
when I think of rest home aquaintances,

How can I
love someone new,
when you kiss
my soul
so true?