Priests and the Cry of Innocence

With all their might they pushed crimes out of sight
And chose to fight the light back into the darkness,
Leaving the carcass of truth in the starkest of graves,
But who will save them from the waves of justice,
Which finally come from cries of innocence violated
And annihilated for the satisfaction of perversity
That so harmfully cast itself upon those weakest
And meekest within the very Household of God?
Surely damnation will come to such beastly priests,
And angels will rock the foundation of all creation

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Bouncing Ball (Triple Haiku)

Bouncing ball to play
One child sees much brighter day
And what should we say?

Yes, be like the child
Just carefree and fun and wild
And yet meek and mild

Leave behind the fray
And, oh, go the child’s way
And for awhile stay

Jesus once said that you have to become like a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, for the Kingdom is made of children. Perhaps, then, we adults need to learn to grow down?

Sweet 16 . . . How It Hurts

How can it be that you’ve grown so quickly?
Ah! It was only yesterday that I carried you
Along the pathway through the city park
And secured you against that dog’s bark;
Has it been so long since I taught you
To play hide and seek, to ride a bike?
Was it not only a few weeks ago
I showed how to climb the tree?
Now I look and see beauty in a young lady,
And I’m stung and tongue-tied and defied
By time that’s passed by so quickly,
Deftly stealing away my little girl . . .
How can it be that you’re now so grown up?
Only yesterday I was shown a baby,
But today I see an outstanding lady!
Nobody told me such loveliness in my child,
So meek and mild, could hurt so very deep
Where I will forever keep you in my heart;
And can I say, ‘happy birthday?’ Yes . . .
And many more as you tear my heart away
And say, too, ‘I love you . . . and always will!’

Yesteryear

Yesteryear is somewhere I hold not dear,
And shed not one tear that I can only peer
Into my past – to cast but a quick glance –
And it does not last . . .
Oh, yes, there’re fond memories, I’m sure
But they do not serve to cure my dejection
And so my rejection of too much reflection
Comes with ease with ne’er ghostly figure
To tease, and no shade to rise up to please,
Nothing to freeze my soul in bygone years;
And tell me, what could be more charming,
If not alarming, for an avid pupil of history?
Ah! an invigorating story I love, so savory!
But really there’s not one bone of interest
To pick from my own,
Sown in the mundane . . .
So yesteryear is not dear but rather drear;
But, then, I hear it is medicine for the soul
To reflect, to recollect, and so it might be,
So, you see, I do reminisce in quietness;
No, I do not hate the past, so I meditate,
Yet this does not last very long;
After all, I belong here and now . . .
Yesteryear may be as near as one thought,
But reliving those days cannot be bought
With the world’s gold, not even one’s soul,
And why try? To want to live in yesteryear
Comes from fear of bowing here and now,
Turning ‘golden days’ into towers of power
Under which one cowers . . .
And this came to mind as I was pondering
Yesteryear

What Pain So Deep?

What pain runs so deep
That you keep it locked
Away from the daylight
And hid thru the night?

What keeps you so silent?
Was it something violent?
Are you still crying inside,
And dying to tell someone?

Why do you shake your fist at God?
Why do you quake inside a church?
Is there no one in whom to confide?
Will this pain forever reside in you?

You say you felt abandoned by the Almighty,
And this has maddened and saddened you. . .
Are you fearful no one will understand you?
That people will brand you if you open up?

What is this eating you up inside?
What horror do you have to hide?
What is burning your very soul,
Churning and binding your mind?

Come out! Come out! No longer keep the monster caged!
Open up! Open up! Lest you live your lovely life enraged!
Peel away layers of fear, trust someone and begin to heal!
Though you have been shaken, you’ve not been forsaken!
Open and come out where it is secure and find your cure!

Oh! What pain so deep
That you keep it locked
Away from the daylight
And hid thru the night?
Indeed, what pain . . .
Pain driving you insane?

I See You Trapped Inside

Hello, hello, I see you in there, yes, through the window
Hugging your pillow; won’t you come out to play today?
Ah, there is your special toy you can share with the boys
Outside playing in the park – swinging and swaying,
Running and jumping – no one standing like a stump;
Yes, I see the look in your eyes and the size of wonder
Hidden under layers of silence; you only need guidance;
Come outside, out into the fine sunshine; cross the line
And free yourself to be yourself . . . oh, but I can see now
You can’t find the door, is that it? Within the four walls
There must be some way out into the bright day, eh?
Or is this why you stand at the window looking out
And about the beautiful world? Is it, perhaps, because
There is no portal through which to release yourself
Into the immortal-mortal world of life – life of sights
And sounds, touch and smell, sky and sea and trees,
And church bells and honey bees – so you stand grand
And beautiful at your window looking in awed wonder
From inside your tiny house that no one can plunder?
. . .
Ah, yes, hello! I am here and I see you in there; I see,
But how might I come inside to bring you outside
Of your four rather banal walls to enjoy the very wide
And tall world all around you? But are you bound?
Are you bound? Not forever, I say; the day will come
When the sound of freedom rings loud and you will
Proudly play with the others and never again have
To stay confined in your hovel, to grovel in your heart
For a part of a world you can only see and barely hear;
And that day will be a grand day of liberty . . .
When you are finally free!
Yes, I see you thru the window hugging your pillow;
I see you . . . I see you . . . and I know you see me, too!

Note: Dedicated to all of the wonderful individuals persons who, for whatever reason (medical, psychological, spiritual … all of the above), are “trapped” inside themselves, unable to “come out” into the wider life of the world around them. One such family member — dear and beautiful child — is in such a state … but I do not believe forever! There is real hope for her and for all such individuals!