A Special Memorial

Today’s stream-of-consciousness prompt was “me-” either by itself or as the beginning of another word. The first words I thought of were French — mentir [to lie], mensonge [lie] — also the words “mendacity” and “mendacious,” but as my blog is usually truthful to a fault, I did not want to write about those, either! I have a memory from this week 5 years ago of making a Funfetti cake in honor of my patron saint, whose special memorial feast day is today. Her name is Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, and she was a nun who lived and died near the end of the 19th century. She is often known as The Little Flower. 

She died at a mere 24 years of age but is considered a Doctor of the Church because of her teaching of the “Little Way.” I wrote a poem, meritorious or not, inspired by her today:

May the scent of roses guide
Through these darkened paths,
May all friends in Heaven pray
With strong love that lasts,
Send to me a heavenly rose
With aroma sweet,
Gentle guide with me always
Giving peace complete.

Streams of Immortality

Today being the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, I was going to repost a poem that I wrote a year ago, but — hooray! — I was able to write a new one this morning! This is a Pinch Poem, like the one I shared 2 days ago.

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O glorious cross, on which the world’s Savior died,
And streams of immortality from His side flowed;
O blood and water washing sins away,
Through Him we are saved and set free.
Through Him we are saved and set free,
Awaiting the perfection of that Day
When we can share in life’s great triumph which He showed,
Which even now we taste, trusting His time, abide.

 

My new rosary, with its crucifix
I think it’s pretty cool! 😀

Pinch Poem: Storms

This pinch poem took me 3 days. As the days go by, it gets more and more applicable / honest. 

A story which these days I have so often heard:
In Galilee Jesus was with his disciples,
Stuck in a storm on a turbulent sea —
He stilled the storm to a whisper.
He stilled the storm to a whisper.
There’s a powerful storm surrounding me,
I may be in the eye, but hurricane-wind pulls,
Even heartfelt poems lack the necessary Word.

Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

Strong Towers

This poem, written in blank verse, was inspired by this page that I colored today. Yesterday some exemplary friends helped me. It was the kind of situation where I couldn’t be left alone, but they went out of their way to help me and show me love. 

Flowers with a Bible verse

The name of God is like a tower strong,
There's safety found within its stalwart walls, 
And mercy gives a multitude of gifts. 
True friends have come, responding to the call
Of great distress, have kept me loved and safe, 
Have seen the gravity of pain and fear --
Yet also have assured that they stay near. 

Anything Good?

Today is the feast of the apostle Saint Bartholomew / Nathaniel, which inspired me to write this haibun:

I sit crying due to unexplained yet expected emotional pain. It’s not a surprise, but there is little I can do to prepare. The only way out is through. The only way through is to believe that some greater good may, through grace, arise from this half-dead and deadly place. “Can these bones live?”* “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”** Faith gives an unequivocal assent, even if one must wait for it.

 

greater things to see:
angels descending, ascending
as the journey goes

   * Ezekiel 37
   ** John 1:45-51

image found here

After

I’ve written seven poems today (so far 🙂 ), but the one I am sharing is a cinquain, inspired by the fact that today is when the Catholic Church celebrates the Assumption of Mary, when Jesus takes her body and soul into Heaven at the end of her earthly life.

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After
Sword of sorrow
Tell me, Mother Mary,
Death will be swallowed in vict’ry
Like yours

P.S. Today is a much better, more peaceful day. It’s so terrible how depression and other mental illness takes away your personality and replaces it with… something terrible. Then it makes you think that that terrible thing is you.

My Favorite

A repost of my favorite poem I’ve ever written, for MLMM’s Sunday Confessionals, also shared with the link-up at Poets and Storytellers United. Linking with DVerse Open-link on 8/18/2022, so I will be reading it aloud.

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“Call Me Hagar”

I feel alone, connection’s far tonight,
I see no smiling star tonight.

Even the moon has forgotten its light.
Shrouded, it makes the sky dark as tar tonight.

My mind sees a battlefield near:
What emotions will I need to spar tonight?

Depression, restlessness, fear, anxiety?
What demons come to wound and scar tonight?

Yet hope alone, even now, can fight
The darkness; complete despair I’ll bar tonight.

In the midst of these anxieties God sees:
I sob in God’s arms. Call me Hagar tonight.

Glorious Hope

Because of the resurrection,
Our hope is not in vain:
Hope – that Jesus’s Ascension
Can mirror our eventual raising,
The Spirit He sent bears witness
To this everlasting promise,
With Holy Mary, queen mother,
Among the firstfruits.

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While I am not absolutely thrilled with this, I figured it was especially appropriate for Sunday. I was inspired by the set of Glorious Mysteries of the rosary. Hopefully Jesus and / or his mom like it.

Influencers

Another Tuesday evening is here, so here is another Sijo for Ronovan Writes’s challenge! This week’s theme is “pride.” I thought of being proud of my accomplishments in high school, which is a legitimate thing to be proud of, yet of how little importance it is now, even just a handful of years later in my life, let alone in the light of eternity. Then I kept thinking and wrote this:

"Non serviam," Lucifer said in pride, and so he fell,
While in humility Mary gladly gave her life to God:
Which one is truly happier, living without any regrets?

 

I am happy to have the Virgin Mary as one of my primary influences and inspirations. It’s because of her and the respect that the Catholic Church gives her that I started to be not only accepting but happy to be a woman. The Catholic Church does NOT worship her, but we give her the utmost respect as the Mother of God, Jesus Christ.

 

 

Memories of July and Years Ago

My photo for Last on the Card for the month of July: a psalm from my Liturgy of the Hours prayer book. I wrote a poem about this, too, that morning.

as a child has rest
trusting in its parents' love
and in provision --

this goal seems unreachable
except by power of God

yet I remember:
distrusting did not exist
when I was a child