On this day after Mother’s Day, I wrote this poem in honor of my mom and moms in general. 🙂
This is a décima for Ronovan Writes’s weekly challenge. We are still celebrating the Easter season, so it’s not too late to share this. 🙂 In fact, the Sunday after Easter is also known as Divine Mercy Sunday.
Resurrexit sicut dixit:
Through many sorrows, there are joys,
Let us sing and make joyful noise,
Death has suffered lasting defeat.
Those who are lost shall again meet
With loved ones, nevermore to leave,
As an everlasting reprieve.
Joy shall be known, all beautiful,
So celebration’s plentiful:
Blessed are all who have believed!
Humans did err, got caught in claws
Of death, yet Jesus came, erased
The penalty — He, our faith’s base,
This is our celebration’s cause.
This deserves more than loud applause
But a whole life: God made us heirs
With Christ, all His blessings He shares.
Bass, tenor, alto, soprano
All sing in harmony and show
Even death itself — life which dares.
On this Holy Saturday, we read an excerpt from an ancient homily as a part of the Liturgy of the Hours. It inspired me because it is a fantastic example of antithesis. Click here to read it. The homily, plus some Bible verses, inspired this poem, which is called a Puente poem because the middle line acts as a “bridge” between the two stanzas.
Just as in Adam all die,
So in Christ shall all be made alive:
Adam’s side had brought forth Eve,
Christ’s side made blood and water stream
~ My side has healed the pain in yours ~
Human hearts experience much hurt,
But the Lord the last word does assert:
Angels which had blocked the garden
Guide souls to heaven, gracious pardon.
Behold the wood of the Cross:
How can I say, “What loss
Is ours, is mine,”
When pain and death combine
In this horrific way?
Still, we have had our fill
Of what seems supremely ill —
We all await Easter Sunday.
For February — another thing that I love:
I love the Catholic Church! Specifically today I am talking about the many saints honored in the Catholic Church. Today being February 3, it is the feast day of Saint Blaise. One of the traditions of this day is the blessing of throats, since St. Blaise is considered the patron of those with throat diseases. For the blessing, the priest uses special candles.
Saint Blaise is just one example of the hundreds, if not thousands, of saints honored in the Church! We also have many other strange traditions, but that’s another thing I love about Catholicism: It is a little weird. 🙂
I even wrote a limerick about today’s saint!
Today on the feast of Saint Blaise,
Parishioners had a malaise:
A disease of the throat,
Yet Corona gloats,
For they must be shut in for days.
Thanks to Paula Light for the idea to post about something we love during the month of February.
As probably everyone is writing about today, it is New Year’s Eve, the last day of this dumpster fire called 2020, and tomorrow is the first day of the new year 2021. I wasn’t particularly excited for this day because it’s not like everything is going to go away at midnight, like what happened to Cinderella at the ball, only good. New Year’s Eve seems unnecessarily weighty, especially this year. However, of course there is hope; there is a sense of newness and possibility, which inspired this tanka for MLMM’s Heeding Haiku. The photo is from exactly one year ago. Let’s hope we can start writing in cafés again! 😀
This is a haibun for FFFC #98 and Frank J. Tassone’s haikai challenge about the New Year / Cold Moon. I tried to come up with a good title, but they were all either too silly or too sad. I don’t want to make the reader sad right from the get-go. 😉
She lies awake, waiting for the ball to drop in Times Square, for the new year to be ushered in with customary fanfare — or what passes for fanfare (or custom) in these strange times. Times Square is empty, people in their homes, hoping for a fuller year ahead.
silent snowy night:
wolf under cold moon