Maravilla

      “...Jos...eph...the bird called...a high pitching song...”

                           An Enfilade

Once you ran around a mountain

Palette white with ice and cold

Then fled before exploding fiery

Red lava’s belch of sulfur mould.

Once you ran around a mountain

Palette black with stone and sun

Then fled steam spewing sprays

Echoing tormented rumble run.

Once you ran around a mountain

Palette scarlet with lightning clouds

Then fled a screaming beggar man  

Pouring forth gated songs in crowds.  

Once you ran around the mountain

Palette white with creeping bougainvillea

Flooding an hour glass and leather belt

Caressing tiny yellow, orange maravilla.

                                              (c) 2/11/13

3/21/13  It started yesterday.  I kept thinking about this poem that I had written—more specifically ‘creeping bougainvillea’.  The colors yellow and orange kept haunting me too.  At first I thought: Are there species that are yellow and orange?  I only knew of pink and white ones.  When I wrote the poem my first thought of different colors was Garcia Lorca’s use of color in his poems and then Adélia Prado’s inclusion of the ordinary. 

The overall poem initially was a love song to Joseph Ratzinger from God and from me when I learned that he was resigning. I have great gratitude, respect and compassion for him and what he has done. He is a very humble man.   I can only reflect on what it has cost this man to serve God’s people as priest, bishop, cardinal and pope.  Originally each stanza represented a pondering of the mountains of his life.  First as a boy, then as priest, then as bishop/cardinal, and then as pope.  The last line was a reflection on his love for the contemplative orders and prayer.  Every symbol seemed obvious except the bougainvillea and tiny yellow, orange maravilla.

Here is what I learned today 3/21/13:

Before I begin: I remind you that I wrote the poem BEFORE the selection of a new pope.

Bougainvillea come from South America.  They belong to the four o’clock family.  Buenos Aires is four hours behind Rome. They have tiny flowers.  The yellow type below is more gold in color [The papal flag] and the orange maravilla  in Tel Aviv where Mt. Carmel is.   Maravilla is Spanish for ‘wonder’.

  [And our present pope is from South America!  I did not know that when all of this was written.]                                  

          Maravillas are also flowers: ‘four o’clock flowers.’ 
From a blog: Four O’clock were one of my Mother’s favorites. She enjoyed the bright trumpet shaped flowers. She told me stories that when she was a young child, she use to make necklaces of the Four O’clock flowers. She would connect each trumpet together with a string! Four O’clock got their name because it opens in mid-afternoon and it remains open overnight, and closes in early morning. They will also remain open on cloudy days. My Mom noticed they also have a stronger fragrance in Mexico than in the U.S.
Four O’clock make an attractive hedge or border. Flower colors include white, red, pink, yellow, and some two-toned blooms. Because the flowers are open during the evening, I recommend you place them in areas where people will see them in late afternoon to early evening hours.
Not only is the Four O’clock flower beautiful to see, but it has medicinal properties too!
=============

"Maravilla" is not a specific species of flower, but refers to how several species of large colorful flower are used. The term "maravilla" describes the function of the flower as part of the costume of women flamenco dancers. The maravilla is typically worn pinned in the hair on the back or sides of the head. Two varieties of yellow flower, calendula and yellow maravilla, also carry the common name maravilla. Both are used as decorative flowers by flamenco dancers.

==============

At this very moment, 12:19, Thursday afternoon, 3/21/13  one of the rock doves is cooing.  A very beautiful pair resides in the hedge at the back of the yard.

Perhaps I should re-title the poem: ‘Wonder.’
==============
[I thought deeply of this gift today the fifth day of the Christmas Novena to St. Joseph.  Isn’t it wonderful that God has graced us not only with a Joseph as pope but two of them?  St. Joseph pray for the Church, for the popes and for us.  Deo gratias!]

On the L and In the X

..it runs from uhtceare (sadness before dawn) to curtain lecture (a telling off given by your spouse in bed). It's out all over the world and you can... Whilst we all revel in our wintery wonderland, ice-skating, lighting log fires, and catching pneumonia, spare a thought for the poor... Their Christmas is spent overrun...between dangling corks...    [M.H. Forsyth, Inky Fool]

Back o'er the waves to Ireland's holy shore;

     Close nestled in her bosom, each wild lay

   Mixed with her sighs--'twas from her deep heart's core

     She called thee: "'Gille Machree'[7] come home, I pray--

   In my green lap of shamrocks sleep, asthore!"  ~ ROSE KAVANAGH, Donahoe’s XV, Feb.1886

  "Never forget

   Little Queen Pet,

   Who was kind to all

   The poor people she met!"   ~ ROSA MULHOLLAND, Donahoe’s XV, Feb. 1886

     ...and urge the patronage of that holy three: Patrick, Bridget and Columcille...

And

ten things that went boom in the night

{not labeled X-...} and the inalienable right

to identify--such a contentious debate that

eccentric folk rightly feign a specious concordat

{or not}. 

And

anteriorly toasted red turkey balls fraught

with pasty rice, sticky panda glue wrap, stand

crunched, ground, pied and stuffed in glass.

It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas

but who’s keeping score?

And

the boys on the ‘el’ screaming and scrolling

{for ESPN} and buddies seizing and trolling

{on the gaming channel...} heading home

for the holidays-that is.  Elmer’s {on the corner} menu tome

is smeared red, green and white for happy hour.

And

when we tripped over the crèche

The nun in black-and-white--who knew?---grabbed her cache,

smiled, picked up the pieces then

put them back together; so at Christ’s Church Mass

tonight I’ll try to remember the day of December

And

a lecture of introduction to the Manger in the play

in the corner near the font {the very same, they say,

where I was dunked on St. Christen’s day} given by

O’Donahoe in the role of Joseph, and Annie Hilliards

as Mary.  Everyone knows the ‘O’ plays best at billiards.

And

when that heilige Eve all star struck covers all in sleep

I’ll watch and rock His tiny bed next to tired sheep

while pondering strange red, green, and blue

bobbling orbs dancing on the fireplace as bubbles through

to Christmas morn.   (c)12/23/13

We Are One: Christmas at a Gas Station

We Are One: Christmas at a Gas Station: My friend sent me this story....enjoy.  CHRISTMAS AT A GAS STATION ...

Happy 238th Birthday to the U.S. Marine Corps

Happy 238th Birthday to the U.S. Marine Corps

Donald Douglas at American Power - 1 hour ago

At the Daily Caller, "Happy 238th Birthday Marines: A message From the Commandant of the Marine Corps": For 238 years, The United States Marine Corps has proudly served our great Nation with unfailing valor – bolstered by the enduring fortitude of our fellow Marines, our families, and our friends. This is why each year on November 10th, Marines from all generations gather together, in groups large and small, to celebrate the birthday of our Corps and to reflect on the proud legacy and warrior ethos we share. This is what unites us as Marines. From our first battle at New Providence... more »

Bd. Elizabeth of the Trinity OCD

Elizabeth of the Trinity belonged henceforth to the entire Church.

Upon her death, the prioress described her body “like a skeleton,” and a close friend wrote that the sight of her body "was frightening. You had the sense of a creature who had been ravaged, consumed.” Even so, Elizabeth was able to pen a handful of letters (with the help of the prioress) to loved ones. An excerpt from perhaps her most famous one, written to her prioress, can speak to us all:

[God] rejoices to build you up by His love and for His glory, and it is He alone who wants to work in you, even though you will have done nothing to attract this grace except that which a creature can do: works of sin and misery...He loves you like that....He will do everything in you. He will go to the end: for when a soul is loved by Him to this extent, in this way, loved by an unchanging and creative love, a free love which transforms as it pleases Him, oh, how far this soul will go! .... the fidelity that the Master asks of you is to remain in communion with Love, flow into, be rooted in this Love .... You will never be commonplace if you are vigilant in love! But in the hours when you feel only oppression and lassitude, you will please Him even more if you faithfully believe that He is still working, that He is loving you just the same, and even more: because His love is free and that is how He wants to be magnified in you; and you will let yourself be loved more than these.... You are called ... to magnify the power of His Love. Believe ... and read these lines as if coming from Him.

                                     Elisabeth de la Trinité, priez pour nous!

You can read more from Christine at her own blog,Laudem Gloriae.

...it is impossible for a Christian to take part in Antisemitism.

Pope Pius XI at Sistine Chapel Mass

"Mark well that in the Catholic Mass, Abraham is our Patriarch and forefather. Antisemitism is incompatible with the lofty thought which that fact expresses. It is a movement with which we Christians can have nothing to do. No, no, I say to you it is impossible for a Christian to take part in Antisemitism. It is inadmissible. Through Christ and in Christ we are the spiritual progeny of Abraham. Spiritually, we [Christians] are all Semites."

Pope Pius XI

6 September 1938

- See more at: http://papastronsay.blogspot.com/2011/10/text-of-letter-prophesied-to-father.html#sthash.h8fCx0UP.dpuf

What weight of ancient witness can prevail / If private judgement hold the public scale? -Dryden

Pray for the Dead: One of the Acts of Mercy

At Least 10,00 Feared Dead in Philippines Typhoon

Donald Douglas at American Power - 1 hour ago

At LAT, "Typhoon may have killed nearly 10,000 in Philippines." At at WSJ, "Thousands Feared Dead in the Philippines in Wake of Typhoon: Red Cross and Authorities Fear Toll Could Rise to the Thousands": MANILA—The Philippine National Red Cross said Sunday that the death toll from supertyphoon Haiyan could run into the thousands, adding that it is difficult to perform the grim calculations because the massive storm left bodies scattered over wide areas. Photographs and video taken Sunday in Tacloban—a city especially hard hit—showed dead people being pulled from rubble and mud, car... more »

"God is on the latter's side"

“…How can we exclude anyone from our care? Rather we must recognize Christ in the poorest and the most marginalized, those whom the Eucharist – which is communion is the Body and Blood of Christ given up for us – commits us to serve. As the parable of the rich man, who will remain forever without a name, and the poor man called Lazarus clearly shows, ‘in the stark contrast between the insensitive rich man and the poor in need of everything, God is on the latter’s side’. We too must be on this same side.”  

~Bd. John Paul II

                                                          

CONSOLATION

"It is I; be not afraid."

WHEN I sink down in gloom or fear,
Hope blighted or delay'd,
Thy whisper, Lord, my heart shall cheer,
"'Tis I; be not afraid!"
Or, startled at some sudden blow,
If fretful thoughts I feel,
"Fear not, it is but I!" shall flow,
As balm my wound to heal.
Nor will I quit Thy way, though foes
Some onward pass defend;
From each rough voice the watchword goes,
"Be not afraid! ... a friend!"
And oh! when judgment's trumpet clear
Awakes me from the grave,
Still in its echo may I hear,
"'Tis Christ; He comes to save."   -Blessed John Henry Newman (1801-1890)

Zaccheo [from Abbey-Roads]

Zaccheo [Zaccheus]

I have a special love of 'Zaccheus'.  I am descended from a Zaccheus who was a post/stagecoach driver up and down the Natchez Trace.  I am told he was quite a character. I bear his daughter's name.

From Terry's blog (Thanks!):

"Today I must stay at your house." 
I love this Gospel - in fact I have been thinking of it on and off for several days, so I was surprised when I discovered it was today's Gospel.
The Holy Father has a beautiful homily for today, as do many other priests...

Zacchaeus is sort of a funny guy - the Gospel passage strikes me as sort of humorous.  I like to think his enthusiasm delighted Our Lord.  Christ may have already been told who Zacchaeus was and most likely knew what he did, and why he was despised.  Of course, he also could see into his heart, and more deeply, God "knew him before he formed him in his mother's womb."  Therefore it seems to me safe to say, Christ first went in search of Zacchaeus, "for you show yourself first and go out to meet those who seek you"  as St. John of the Cross says.

Since my monastery days - I've been accustomed to understanding this Gospel as an invitation to recollection, the prayer of recollection.  I like to imagine Christ, in the deepest center of our heart, of our soul, calling us to leave behind our preoccupation with externals, the distractions we seek and those which assail us.  I like to think Jesus calls us to come down, to get out of our brains as it were, to put aside all the intellectual, theological speculation and commune with him in silent, loving prayer.  Even when we find ourselves so imperfect.  Despite our failures, I think Christ sees us already cleansed of our sins, and calls out:

"O soul, most beautiful of all creatures, that so greatly desires to know the place where your Beloved is, in order to seek Him and be united with Him.... It is a matter of great contentment and joy for you to see that He is so near you as to be within you. Rejoice and be glad in your inward recollection with Him, since you have Him so near. There desire Him, there adore Him, and do not go to seek Him outside yourself." - Spiritual Canticle

... When good people grumble about our sinfulness and scandalous life, (and they do) - then we can all the more repent, and rejoice with Zacchaeus, that we are at last 'found out'.  We can then  follow the example of Zacchaeus, confess our failings, striving to make reparation, while trusting in God's mercy - God, who first loved us, who sought us out, with the intention of staying in our house this day.  We can repent every day, and return to our inward cell of recollection.  Because God comes to save what was lost.

“There is no occupation or social condition, no sin or crime of any kind, that could erase from the memory and the heart of God even one of His children.” God is a Father, always keeping a watchful and loving vigil “to see reborn in the hearts of the child the desire to return home. And when He recognizes that desire, even simply stated, He is immediately close by, and with His forgiveness He makes the path of conversion and return easier.” - Pope Francis

Capt. David Seth Mitchell USMC-Rest in Peace

Marine Capt. David Seth Mitchell
       

Died October 26, 2009 Serving During Operation Enduring Freedom

                       ... remembered as `the favourite of heaven.”...today I sensed that Capt. Mitchell wanted me to include those who died along side him.
                  Remembering the praiseworthy dead is among the obligations of the living.

"God keeps His eye on those that are dead and buried the same as He does on those that are alive and walking. When the time comes the dead are raised, He won't need any directions..."

~Joseph Mitchell, ‘Mr. Hunter’s Grave’

…Born in the black aurora of disaster,
Can look a common soldier in the face:
I find a comrade where I sought a master :
For daily, while the stinking crocodiles
Glide from the mangroves on the swampy shore,
He shares my awning on the dhow, he smiles,
And tells me that he lived it all before.
Through fire and shipwreck, pestilence and loss,
Led by the ignis fatuus of duty
To a dog’s death — yet of his sorrows king —
He shouldered high his voluntary Cross,
Wrestled his hardships into forms of beauty,
And taught his gorgon destinies to sing. ~Roy Campbell, Luis de Camões

A relic…from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer:

"Deliver us, we beseech thee, in our several callings, from the service of mammon, that we may do the work which thou givest us to do, in truth, in beauty, and in righteousness, with singleness of heart as thy servants, and to the benefit of our fellow men."

---

There are no ‘little’ acts of compassion.  That day even the blazing, burnt copper aspens quaked in mourning, moaning in the bitter heavings of the cold winter wind.

Capt. David S. Mitchell, may you rest in peace.

Capt. David 'Seth Mitchell 30, of Loveland, Ohio; assigned to Marine Light Attack Helicopter Squadron 367, Marine Aircraft Group 39, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, I Marine Expeditionary Force, based out of Camp Pendleton, Calif.; died Oct. 26 at FOB Dwyer, Afghanistan, after a collision between a UH-1 and an AH-1 helicopter in Helmand province. Also killed were Cpl. Gregory M.W. Fleury, Capt. Eric A. Jones and Capt. Kyle R. Van De Giesen.

                  May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.

---

Loveland Marine killed in Afghanistan

By Jennifer Baker, Barrett J. Brunsman and Carrie Whitaker

Cincinnati Enquirer via Gannett News Service

LOVELAND – David “Seth” Mitchell was known as “Mr. Personality” when he was president of the senior Class of 1997 at Loveland High School.

Even then the student council member, varsity football player and track runner dreamed of serving in the United States military, friends said Tuesday night at a prayer vigil held in his honor.

“I remember he didn’t want to take anyone’s life,” said friend and former teammate Nick Jackson. “He was thinking about this as a sophomore — he was so thoughtful but he felt such a duty to serve.”

Assistant Athletic Director Kevin Taylor said everybody got along with Mitchell.

“I don’t know that he had an enemy,” Taylor said.

But he did: terrorism.

Mitchell, a Cobra helicopter pilot for the Marine Corps, died Monday trying to defeat it in Afghanistan. He was 30.

Two Marine helicopters — a UH-1 and an AH-1 Cobra — collided in flight before sunrise over southern Afghanistan while supporting combat operations, the military disclosed Tuesday. He was one of four Marines killed. Two others were wounded.

His classmates at Loveland High School, teachers, friends and strangers gathered Tuesday night in the school lobby where Mitchell spent his high school years. Later, they moved outside to light candles in his memory.

The shock and loss was evident. Tears fell freely as friends held one another. His classmates, some now young parents, clutched their babies.

About a dozen gathered their courage to stand in front of television cameras and share their memories of Mitchell.

“Seth was my neighbor and he was also a friend,” said Chandra Johnson. “I always felt like when I had conversations with him – I always felt like what I was saying was important. When he talked to you he really wanted to know what you wanted to say.”

Erica Miller gladly helped organize the Class of 1997’s 10-year reunion when Mitchell’s responsibilities kept him too busy to plan it, she said. But he was sure to attend.

“At our class reunion, he was the first one on the dance floor and the last one to leave,” Miller said.

Mitchell grew up in Miami Township, but his family now lives in North Carolina. They could not be reached for comment on Tuesday. He has one sibling, friends said. He is the first Loveland High graduate to die in Afghanistan.

Teachers said Mitchell was the kind of student impossible to forget.

“He sat in the row by the window, third seat back,” said social studies teacher Jeff Geiger, who had Mitchell in his global issues class. “He was always prepared, always did his work. He was the type of kid every teacher wanted in the classroom. We knew he would be successful because he worked hard and was ready to go every day.”

Mitchell graduated from Virginia Tech, joined the Marine Corps in 2001 and was stationed at Camp Pendleton near San Diego, said Marine spokeswoman Cpl. Jessica Aranda.

A member of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, he was assigned to Marine Light Attack Helicopter Squadron 367, Marine Aircraft Group 39, 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing.

During his time in the Marines, he received 10 medals and commendations, including the Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal, Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal, Iraq Campaign Medal and Global War on Terrorism Service Medal.

A former Marine himself, Geiger said he was especially proud of Mitchell, who helped him stay in touch with Loveland High graduates after they joined the military.

“Seth being a Marine, I have kind of a special place in my heart for him,” Geiger said. “Seth was always willing to help out in any way that he could.

“We won’t let him be forgotten,” Geiger said. “He gives us his life. His sacrifice is why we are able to do what we do on a daily basis. Without men like Seth, who knows where we would be?”

Other teachers at Loveland jumped at the chance Tuesday to honor Mitchell’s memory with accolades.

Julie Powers, who teaches math and spent four years working with Mitchell as an adviser to student council, said Mitchell planned on being a pilot from a young age.

“I don’t know exactly what turned him onto that as a young boy,” Powers said, “but before he reached grade nine, one thing was on his radar screen, no pun intended.”

She said he exemplified the strong leadership demonstrated by the 180-member Class of 1997.

“He was someone who put 110 percent into everything he did, and he did everything,” Powers said.

Powers broke down in tears, then mentioned her son, a fourth-grade student.

“If my son would grow up to be even half the man Seth grew up to be, I will consider myself a success as a parent,” Powers said as she cried. “He was just an amazing kid.”

Mitchell was the second member of the military from Clermont County to die in Afghanistan.

Army Spc. Gregory James Missman, 36, of Union Township, an Amelia High School graduate, was killed by insurgents in July. Six residents have died in Iraq. Two other members of the military killed in Iraq had parents who lived in the county.

“I’m sure we will do something to honor one of Clermont County’s finest,” said County Commissioner Bob Proud, founder of the Whole in My Heart support group for the families and friends of those serving in Afghanistan or Iraq. “The first thing I’m going to try to do is contact his parents to express condolences on behalf of a grateful Clermont County. We will never forget his service or sacrifice.”

Mary Makley Wolff, chairwoman of the Miami Township Board of Trustees, said she would work with local and county officials to “try to reach out to the family and to the community to honor the memory of such a hero.”

The other Marines killed in the collision were Cpl. Gregory M.W. Fleury, 23, of Anchorage, Alaska; Capt. Eric A. Jones, 29, of Westchester, N.Y.; and Capt. Kyle R. Van De Giesen, 29, of North Attleboro, Mass.

Separately Monday, a U.S. military helicopter crashed while returning from the scene of a firefight with suspected Taliban drug traffickers in western Afghanistan, killing 10 Americans, including three DEA agents.

The two crashes made it the deadliest day for U.S. forces in Afghanistan in more than four years.

“[Seth] believed every bit in his service for our country … he knew it was his calling,” said friend Marci Weable. “We’re blessed to have had him be a part of our lives.”

———

The Associated Press contributed.

http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/dsmitchell.htm

Capt. David S. Mitchell

United States Marine Corps

KIA 26 Oct 2009, Afghanistan

My Note: 
I never knew Capt. Mitchell in this life.  Our paths crossed strangely on line as I was just beginning a long painful mourning.  It is ironic that I am a retired Chemistry and Physics teacher and taught many 'honor' students.  He certainly had 'honor'--"semper fidelis".  His name and picture and story helped me to begin writing, blogging and creating again.  He let me know ahead of time through a chance perusal through one of my journals last weekend that his day was coming up.  It is hoped that in Heaven we may meet and understand why...  
                                                         "Thanks, Seth. I salute you, Marine!"

For years I’ve loved Canada geese for their beauty, endurance, and spirit of aspiration. They used to stop at our lake in Connecticut during their fall migration, and we’d feed them bread scraps from the dock. Once or twice I felt their sharp, precise bills pluck the food straight from my hands; my fingers tingled long afterwards from that quick, electric touch of wildness. Years later, after moving to Minnesota, I would wave as they passed overhead, honking encouragement in great ragged chevrons heading north. Later I would meet them paddling in the Boundary Waters, sleek and unruffled. They seemed to embody a pristine freedom along with a courage and perseverance honed by epic journeys.  -John Tallmadge, http://www.humansandnature.org/blog/wild-goose-chase

Bd. John Paul II

A belated remembering:  his F.D.: October 22

Bl. Pope John Paul II (*Catholic Online)

Life After Trauma...

Why should trauma survivors speak out - thoughts from Elie Wiesel
Excerpt:
In Conversations With Elie Wiesel, by Elie Wiesel and Richard Heffner, Wiesel talks about why trauma survivors should tell their stories. Elie Wiesel, a world-famous author and peace activist who survived the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Buchenwald, gives several reasons. The first, not surprisingly, is to prevent genocide. Sadly, as we are only too aware after Rwanda and Darfur, this hasn't happened. Still, it is a large part of the reason why Wiesel began to write about the Holocaust. 

"We tell the tale of our nightmare and of our darkness in order to prevent other people from entering that nightmare," Wiesel told journalist Heffner. Speaking out, however, is never easy, even for someone who later became a prize-winning author. Immediately after the war, Wiesel found that people were not interested in hearing his story and few other Holocaust survivors were speaking out. Wiesel explains the impact that this response had. 

"The question is really not how we survived the war," Wiesel told Heffner, "but how we survived mentally afterwards, when we came out and we saw that life was business as usual and how few people cared." (Wiesel and Heffner, p. 151) My own experiences with trauma have been similar. Not that my personal traumas can compare to the Holocaust. Of course not. However, my experience has been that people don't want to hear about what has happened to me...

Abbey-roads: Sr. Antonia Brenner - RIP

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2013

Sr. Antonia Brenner - RIP

Her story is simple - but oh so great... She lived in a prison. For 30 years. Everyone will be writing about her, so I won't editorialize the story except to say, there are saints amongst us. There always have been, always will be. Sister Antonia Brenner, a Beverly Hills-raised mother of seven who became a Roman Catholic nun and moved into a notorious Tijuana prison where she spent more than three decades mending broken lives, easing tensions and dispensing everything from toothbrushes to bail money, has died. She was 86. - Finish reading here. I recall hearing that there were Little Sisters of Jesus who lived in a prison somewhere. There are saints in weird places, where no one else will go. Love is kind

The Uninvited

           A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself...- May Sarton

The Flowering Tree

       The Saguaro Cactus …growing to the size of a tree. It also gets a number of greedy house guests during its life time… The Gila Woodpecker, for example, seems completely at ease among the spines… gorgeous Red-shafted Flicker –  the hummingbirds– the House Wren… another visitor – a lizard – well camouflaged… a party of house finches… the major pollinator is the lesser long-nosed bat… the flowers of the saguaro produces a fruit that can hold up to two thousand seeds… The paper wasp… White Winged Dove– even the humble house sparrow… The Great Horned Owl and Red-tailed Hawk…and vultures…

‘The Uninvited’

There is a city that through time shall lie
in a fixed darkness of the earth and sky,
and many dwell therein this very hour.
It is a city without seed or flower,
estranged from every bird and butterfly.

Who walked these streets of night? I know them well.
Those who come out of life's sequestered places:
the lonely, the unloved, the weak and shy,
the broken-winged who piteously would fly,
the poor who still have starlight in their faces.

They are the outcast ones, the last, the least,
whom earth has not invited to her feast,
and who, were they invited in the end,
finding their wedding clothes too frayed to mend,
would not attend.    –Jessica Powers(1935)

How easy to walk by without a glance on the busy streets filled all day, all night with those whose clothes are “too frayed to mend”.  As I climbed the stairs humming my own tune I was startled again by the ‘blue pale eyes’ of a child.  There are no crisp uniforms for her, no friendly eyes and smiles as I often see on many in playgrounds under the sun.  I am frightened for her.  She, only six, is unbroken still even though familied in great, great poverty and darkness.  She walks and plays on streets of murderous dangers to soul and body yet God sent this beautiful child to the lowliest—two broken on the wheel.  I already love her yet have only seen her twice.

‘In her book The Flowering Tree (1945), the theme is the flowering of Christ in man. "The idea that I have in mind," Miss Caryll Houselander says "is that we are really part, as it were, of a vast rhythm and that when we become more recollected we become more and more conscious of it. It (its two ways.) We can, I think, cultivate recollection by deliberately saying rhythms or poetry; and when we do this, those thoughts expressed within us rhythmically are heard by our minds in everything round us, even in the traffic in the street.''  -Caryll Houselander

Around every corner is the Poor Christ.

This vast rhythm is the beating of the Sacred Heart and the Immaculate Heart.
   For You: since I couldn't get it to work for you....

  h/t Ruth

"Jessica writes of the urban poor, proud and with starlight in their faces, as those uninvited guests to the wedding feast in the New Testament parable of Jesus.(61)   She knows them well and knows the power of their presence.  They are the ones “who, were they invited in the end, finding their wedding clothes too frayed to mend, would not attend.”  Without their presence, the party is not full, is not complete, is not a real one; rather, it is only a partial, incomplete imitation of life and not what God has willed for those who wait for the coming of the kingdom.

  Interaction with the marginalized in her society led Jessica to embrace a mystical vision of the human person in relationship with God and others that was balanced with the real world about her.  By means of her poetry, Jessica could capture the paradox of the human being pitted against odds of sure defeat yet being aided by divine grace and redeemed in the end.

    Although it would be almost ten years before Jessica Powers would enter the Carmelite community in Milwaukee, the poem, ‘The Track of the Mystic,” reveals the seeds of her Christian spirituality latent with both mystic and Carmelite overtones.  Her handling of the classic themes of St. John of the Cross, which she had been familiar with starts out with proud step in search of love, encounters torment in the struggle, and in the night of God’s light experiences the paradox of death in triumph not in defeat.  Ultimately her message is one of hope written in concrete terms and images.  First published in 1932, Jessica’s poem, ‘The Track of the Mystic, ‘ invokes a powerful vision of the human person transformed by grace:

 The Track of the Mystic        

There was a man went forth into the night

with a proud step.  I saw his garments blowing;

I saw him reach the great cloud of unknowing.

He went in search of love, whose sign is light.

From the dark night of sense I saw him turn

into the deeper dark nights of the soul

where no least star marks a divine patrol.

Great was his torment who could not discern

this night was God’s light generously given

blinding the tainted spirit utterly

till from himself at last he struggled free.

I saw him on the higher road to heaven:

his veins ran gold; light was his food and breath.

Flaming he melted through the wall of death! (62)

   As she herself became more aware and sure of her poetic call, Jessica became more determined to seek out the means to realize this call.  By 1934 she saw the link in her own life between the movement of the Holy Spirit, her poetry, and her need to journey in search of a place to realize her call, as she wrote:

Shining Quarry

Since the luminous great wings of wonder stirred

over me in the twilight I have known

the Holy Spirit is the Poet’s Bird.

Since in a wilderness I wandered near

a shining stag, this wisdom is my own:

the Holy Spirit is the Hunter’s Deer.

And in the dark in all enchanted lands

I know the Spirit is that Burning Bush

toward which the artist gropes with outstretched

     hands.

Upon the waters once and then again

I saw the Spirit in a silver rush

rise like the Quarry of the Fishermen.

Yet this I know: no arrows of desire

can wound Him, nor a bright intrepid spear;

He is not seen by any torch of fire,

nor can they find Him who go wandering far;

His habitat is wonderfully near

in each soul’s thicket ‘neath its deepest star.

Let those who seek come home through the vain

   years

to where the Spirit waits a shining captive.

This is the hunt most worthy of all tears.

Bearing their nets celestial, let them come

and take their Quarry on the fields of rapture

that lie beyond the last gold pendulum. (63)

The catalyst for change in Jessica’s life was twofold, wonder and beauty, and both were always calling her forward.  In this poem, her speaker becomes a hunter, like those who sought deer in the Wisconsin woods, but this hunter is trying to track and make captive the Spirit who calls out in wonder and beauty.  Like an artist who ‘gropes with outstretched hands,’ the speaker is trying to reach out and touch the ‘Burning Bush,’(64) again a thing of wonder and beauty existing always beyond the human grasp.  As a fisherman trying to net the ‘silver rush’ of the quarry, (65) the human subject is trying to net the Spirit only to discover that the Quarry cannot be taken except ‘on the fields of rapture’ that lie beyond time, ‘beyond the last gold pendulum.’  The paradox of the speaker driven to undertake a lifelong pilgrimage in search of God is voiced in lines like: ‘He is not seen by any torch of fire/Nor can they find Him who go wandering far,’ or ‘His habitat is wonderfully near/in each soul’s thicket ‘neath its deepest star,’ or ‘Let those who seek come home through the vain years/ to where the Spirit waits a shining captive.’ (pp.22-36)  -[The Track of the Mystic:The Spirituality of Jessica Powers by Marcianne Kappes]

Also from St. Therese’s autobiography: “O my only Friend, why dost Thou not reserve these infinite longings to lofty souls, to the eagles that soar in the heights? Alas! I am but a poor little unfledged bird. I am not an eagle, I have but the eagle’s eyes and heart! Yet, notwithstanding my exceeding littleless, I dare to gaze upon the Divine Sun of Love, and I burn to dart upwards unto Him! I would fly, I would imitate the eagles; but all that I can do is to lift up my little wings–it is beyond my feeble power to soar.”

Love/Mercy

In the late 1930s Jessica Powers lived in New York. She tells how she sat on a New York park bench arguing with an editor for over two hours as to whether or not truth or beauty was the greater attribute in God. The editor aided with truth; she, with beauty. Several months before she died, she told me that perhaps both she and the editor were wrong. "In the end," she said, "all we have is the mercy of God. That is God's greatest attribute." It is not surprising, then, that Jessica asked that her poem "The Mercy of God" (p. 1) be given prominence in her volume of selected poetry.

I am copying down in a book from my heart's archive

the day that I ceased to fear God with a shadowy fear.

Would you name it the day that I measured my column of virtue

and sighted through windows of merit a crown that was near?

Ah, no, it was rather the day I began to see truly

That I came forth from nothing and ever toward nothingness tend,

that the works of my hands are a foolishness wrought in the presence

of the worthiest king in a kingdom that never shall end.

I rose up from the acres of self that I tended with passion

and defended with flurries of pride:

I walked out of myself and went into the woods of God's mercy,

and here I abide.

There is greenness and calmness and coolness, a soft leafy covering

from judgment of sun overhead,

and the hush of His peace, and the moss of His mercy to tread.I have nought but my will seeking God; even love burning in me

is a fragment of infinite loving and never my own.

And I Fear God no more; I go forward to wander forever

in a wilderness of His infinite mercy alone.

Spirituality deals with that radical move from the acres of self into the circle of God's love and mercy. We call this conversion, metanoia. Through the action of grace, the soul now has a new center of consciousness, and directs its activity in accord with God's will. Discernment and obedience become a way of life. Conversion is a gift of God's mercy and once it is experienced, there is no longer any enduring fear. Mercy is one facet of love. In the face of sin, mercy is called forgiveness; in the face of affliction, mercy was called compassion. Jessica Powers understood that mercy was truly an aspect of love and thus a large volume of her poetry centers on love with a capital "L" (referring to God) as well as love with a small "I" (referring to ourselves). In her poem "Letter of Departure" (pp. 43-44) she makes two references to this important distinction in her spiritual understanding:

... We knew too much of the knowable dark world,

its secret and its sin,

too little of God. And now we rise to see

that even our pledges to humanity

were false, since love must out of Love begin.   

From article "The Spirituality of Jessica Powers, " by Rev. Robert Morneau, D.D., Spiritual Life, Vol 36, No 3, Fall 1990, pp. 150-161.  

Kool-Aid(*) Drinkers

...when people here in Chicago say “community” they mean that this is safe Democrat territory and that they’re all committed Obama Kool-Aid drinkers.  I’m not talking about politics here, though…but just the Us vs. Them attitude that Democrats foster in all aspects of life.  Here in Chicago, hardly any of these people know a thing about what’s going on in Washington legislatively or even what elected officials do…but instead they are just taught that Democrats are good and Republicans are evil…and to be “good” people must thus be as evil as possible to anyone who is not a Democrat.  I think by emphasizing that “community” stuff in the rental websites that those companies are trying to recruit fellow-travelers and also simultaneously send a message that if you are not a Lefty that this building is not for you.  Because of federal housing regulations they can’t come out and say NO CONSERVATIVES NEED APPLY (though, actually, one apartment rental place actually did that and they got in big trouble for it)....Kevin

EDUARDO + ROMAN - "FARAON"

Vol de la Oiseaux Sauvages! I can go only so long! Music from the mountain rapids again...

St. Margaret Mary Alacoque and the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Daughter of Claude Alacoque and Philiberte Lamyn, Margaret was born on July 22, at L'Hautecour, Burgundy, France, was sent to the Poor Clares school at Charolles on the death of her father, a notary, when she was eight years old. She was bedridden for five years with rheumatic fever until she was fifteen and early developed a devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. She refused marriage, and in 1671 she entered the Visitation convent at Paray-le-Monial and was professed the next year. From the time she was twenty, she experienced visions of Christ, and on December 27, 1673, she began a series of revelations that were to continue over the next year and a half. In them Christ informed her that she was His chosen instrument to spread devotion to His Sacred Heart, instructed her in a devotion that was to become known as the Nine Fridays and the Holy Hour, and asked that the feast of the Sacred Heart be established...
...She received the support of Blessed Claude La Colombiere, the community's confessor for a time, who declared that the visions were genuine. In 1683, opposition in the community ended when Mother Melin was elected Superior and named Margaret Mary her assistant. She later became Novice Mistress, saw the convent observe the feast of the Sacred Heart privately beginning in 1686, and two years later, a chapel was built at the Paray-le-Monial to honor the Sacred Heart; soon observation of the feast of the Sacred Heart spread to other Visitation convents. Margaret Mary died at the Paray-le-Monial on October 17, and was canonized in 1920. She, St. John Eudes, and Blessed Claude La Colombiere are called the "Saints of the Sacred Heart"; the devotion was officially recognized and approved by Pope Clement XIII in 1765, seventy-five years after her death. Her feast day is observed on October 17.
...from Catholic Online

...unless the Father draws him...

“Comedy in a handful of dust”

JUNE 25, 2011 BY JOB AT 10:51 AM

St. Bernard says this of the faithful – represented by the Bride, the Church, in his 21st sermon on the Song of Songs:

 “[The Bride] requests…to be drawn, because ‘your righteousness is like the mountains of God,” and she cannot attain to it of her own strength. She requests to be drawn because she knows that no one comes to you unless your Father draws him.”

In our acts of making, then, we do not celebrate our flesh in its natural gravity, to be “stifled in the sea,”  a natural gravity which in any case must be overcome by the comic lightness of Christ; but it is the very comedy of our flesh – struggling to gain God’s mountain through the arc that sources in Homer as in Hopkins, and which Dante rendered explicit – that we get to work with our tools and talents.

We chronicle the hours and seasons that our Christ delivers us daily from our demons.  That’s the unique perspective, it seems, of the Christian writer. Every moment an opportunity for grace; every season an opportunity to represent, imitate, and in other ways render that grace palpable to the senses – and our sense of humour...

... Even Shakespeare’s darkest comedy retained a comic lightness – perhaps to keep bawdy humanity grounded in the body that was God’s body too. Indeed, the writer’s castigations and exorcisms can be dramatic and – as the swine’s fate at Gerasene was meant at once to be terrible and hilarious – as risibly crude or visibly glorious as our human conditions can dream up. One of the consolations outside of Eden’s eastern gates  is our ability to retain  he gift of laughter. We learn from Christ to send our own demons headlong over the desperate cliffs from which they syllogize and declaim their solopsistic squeals of self-slaughter. We learn, also, to laugh, even if sometimes that laughter is low and guarded, grim and self-effacing. It is never a laughter that refuses to serve; it is always a laughter that understands..

Job,“Comedy in a handful of dust”  at Korrektiv Press

St. Teresa of Avila, Doctor, Carmelite Foundress, Author, Poetess -fd Oct. 15

        St. Teresa of Avila

was born in 1515, and she lived at an exciting time in history.

Posted by Fr. Christopher George Phillips at AtonementOnline blog

Read more...

A L-O-N-G History

…”The Stoics throned Fate, the Epicureans Chance, while the Skeptics left a vacant space where the gods had been –[nihilism]—but all agreed in the confession of despair;...and...Oriental schemes of thought contributed a share to the deepening gloom..."      ~Gwatkin

Words Half Heard: Mary's Song

Words Half Heard: Mary's Song:
[...'woman''s song...]
 I’ve always enjoyed reading Luke’s account of Mary and Elizabeth in Luke 1. It’s one of those little advent side-stories that reveals far more...

True Transformation: Mutuality of Love

True Transformation: Mutuality of Love

The prevailing D/s mythology in mental health denies not only the possibility of constructive suffering, but pathologizes the very notion that pain and suffering have any positive transformative power.

“In clinical work, mental health professionals are often asked to evaluate or testify on the “health” of a relationship or individual in an effort to address fears of abuse or domestic violence. Relationships that fall under the broad umbrella of Dominance and submission (D/s) (such as Master/ slave, Owner/property, Daddy/girl, Sir/boy, etc.) are commonly perceived as more difficult to evaluate than relationships that involve the more overt understanding of it.

This presentation aims to give guidelines, language, and theory to guide professionals and laypeople through an evaluative process that is often colored by the maladaptive experiential avoidance of pain and suffering by both the client and the professional. Various elements of D/s relationships seem to generate the most difficulty, often because they directly contradict and explicitly challenge the prevailing professional and cultural narratives around consent and power. The prevailing mythology in mental health denies not only the possibility of constructive suffering, but pathologizes the very notion that pain and suffering have any positive transformative power. Issues that will be addressed include, but are not limited to; 24/7 Lifestyle, Total Power Exchange (TPE), Family and Children, Non-Monogamy, and Safewords. The constructs of Gender, Race, and Consent will also be examined and addressed as part of the perceptions of what makes up a “healthy” or “unhealthy” relationship in a D/s context”.

~David Rodemaker, Beyond Consent: A New Paradigm for Domestic Violence and Master/slave Relationships” -Thursday, May 24th, 2012[http://entelekea.com/blog/?p=196]

I find many of the discussions of this in relationship to ‘The Trinity’ of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob to be the height of satanic blasphemy which greatly dishonor and demean God’s love relationship with each of us.  It is to be noted that 

“Hegel really did have a secret, and . . . it has been well kept. The secret, abruptly stated, is that Hegel was an atheist. His ‘Christianity’ is nothing but nominal, an elaborate subterfuge to protect his professional ambitions..”

For the Christian it is an amazing realization that the God of the universe has a personal committed covenant relationship with each of us.  It is one of absolute love mutuality from God’s side.  It is the foundation of what it means to be a Christian.  “I call you, friend.”  “No greater love has any man than this that he would lay down his life for his friend.”  Jesus Christ did just that: as God and as man.  Christian transformation through suffering brings life, love, redemption and joy.  Living in the truth means ‘mutual submission’ through God’s love for the other.  Love is kind, is not jealous,.... 

Any type of ‘enslavement’ of another human being is evil and demeaning.  God’s will is freedom and love for every human being.  Fundamentally it is a choice between love and power.  When it comes to that in any relationship it is a choice between accepting God as God or a rebellion against God as God.  He gives the choice.  He does not 'force' us.  We may not understand what God asks of us in our daily lives but He absolutely loves us and will never leave us.