How long did you know, Lord, how long did you know, before I was born, so long ago? How long did you know, Lord, how long did you know, all I would be, so long ago? How long did you know, Lord, where I would go, when we started together, so long ago? How long did you know, Lord, all that I know, the life I live now, how long did you know? How long did you know, Lord, what I do not know, how long did you know, the way still to go? How long did you know, Lord, how long did you know, how much you did love me, so long ago? (1990s) Jesus on the cross, reach down, reach down to me My simple prayer this is: to Thee My failings win, I cannot reach or see, But through thy love, your love for me, I know of Love’s eternity, My hope, your Love for me, And so I ask – My Jesus on the cross, in prayer to thee If I wanted to sit at your feet, your Presence was here. If I wanted to hear you speak, your Word is read. If I wanted to see you, your Body is held high. To touch your garment, I can embrace Communion. If I wanted new beginning, my journey starts with you, O Alpha! Or to end my sorrows and slavery, here, my Omega. If I wanted the center of the universe there was this liturgical moment when East and West heaven and earth meet in divine oblation. And if I could not be here, I could reach this all in prayer. No need for pilgrim wandering To find a teacher or an answer Or rational explanation set beside your Mystery. No, rather, we celebrate your Revelation. Our belief is simple: God came revealed, incarnate, died, ascended He left us, living after, with his Spirit. We Christians see the comings and the goings of this world and now believe we are His Body, our actions in and for him. We believe we are the Church, living through the Spirit, the aftermath of the Ascension. Surrounded by miracles, we await God’s day quietly, in Ordinary Time. [i] (1990s) [i] “Ordinary Time”. Wikipedia.org. {https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ordinary_Time } (accessed January 19, 2022). “Ordinary Time … is the part of the liturgical year in the liturgy of the Roman Rite … which falls outside the two great seasons of Christmas-tide and Eastertide, or their respective preparatory seasons of Advent and Lent.” You promised to be with us always, always, until the end of the world, but where are you? * * * You are in Awareness when I wake in the morning whether or not I greet you that first moment…. You are in my Home, my comfort where I rest, the nest for one or many – structure of human love You are in every Person You have told us so, that we are all members of one Body, your Body, each a different part You, Creator, are in every blade of grass, each flower, wave or mountain each moment, drop of dew, dead seed and new beginning Your special Promise brings you there when two or three gather in your Name – Behold! You wait “reserved” in Tabernacle ark God in the Temple of his Church intended for our visit, Your building has a Center You shine in Monstrance to adore with candles and gold perhaps incense and song, sometimes in lonely vigil You are in our Congregation, a great diversity which shares no age, or looks, or taste, or thought, or motive but only You, as your Body You are in the Ordained, those ranks, up through the Holy Father, built on Peter-Rock, Shepherd of your great flock You are in the Ritual of today and yesterday “Do this in memory of me” – Priest’s presence, words and gesture, “line of Melchisedek” You share the heavenly junction when angels with your Mystical Body, Church Triumphant and Militant, pause in Liturgy’s Mass to adore…. You are that repeatedly new Presence for which no culture truly has a word, “Transubstantiation” coined to term the humanly inexpressible You are in Communion’s closeness when you visit me, one of many, whether attention “there” or absent, only to find Fruits afterward You speak in “Ite, Missa Est,” sending us to bring you to the World, to love your Least Ones, as loving You, one-on-one * * * You promised to be with us always, always, until the end of the world, and we find you – everywhere (2010s) A handful of happiness like sand, or snow, gold, or seed, gripped to feel the fullness wants to open fingers, sprinkle and scatter – rejoicing new places (2010s) Word root of “Lent” means Spring Word root of “Lent” means increase Word root of “Lent” means slowly Word root of “Lent” means release The season that springs from roots…. [i] In northern woods a stream has forced a dam of ice across its banks chunks white, translucent, glowing watery green caught against tree trunks and still melting How thick those plates when formed in higher swamps and shallows, how long before they cracked to blocks and pieces tumbling freely down to impasse With warmth some extra force was added to carry down this pile – gushing falls, perhaps great rain, a rush that tore and lifted, came forcing winter’s frozen remnants here (continued on next page) Now, still waiting for more sun and flowing to break this jam they cause amaze – short permanence so threatened by intermittent, jagged breakdown till all of winter disappears (2010s) [i] “Lent”. Online Etymology Dictionary. {https://www.etymonline.com/word/lent } (accessed January 20, 2022). Dear Friend, forgive if like the tide I follow moons to far-off shores or ocean center rendezvous. Forgive me if my vagrant waves leave no promise of return except odd gifts for you to store. Trust that somewhere, as from you, their waters drink up secret strains till, moon-relinquished, back they turn with fragrance to add more. (for R.V. - 1960s) I can’t believe in life, that’s it! I’ve tried each day “Next year,” we say What happens in between? Six new worlds at least and I’ll be fooled by all of them Perhaps a thousand years ago when time was slow and all one life the same Perhaps some child’s new eyes said, “Land and sea, friends and me.” Perhaps then life was tame. We have the same God still, No doubting that, I know It’s Life I can’t believe in, his blindfold game below (1960s) we, tiny sea animals have a place and function doing slow work sifting each with our tiny cells the ocean water which passes building a house to protect our small and vulnerable selves then we die and our ruins in colonies or alone gather below unnoticed our work is quietly resting tiny sediment bones and all the while above us others come and go our leavings transform in stages starting with fine drifting sand later mountains and cities are made from the rock of our shells or planted with feet firm upon us because from the fluid ocean we have created the land (1970s) Like a priest holding up a wafer I offer Thee this mood sliver of existence reflection’s food May it be consecrated until we can see Thee (1980s) |
Poems by Janet
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von Gumppenberg |
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