Waiting

They've put him in a box
- these ashes once my friend -
enclosed him in silence.
The mourners tears are shed.
Broken hearts have yielded
to our Lord's loving will.
Sorrowful, we shuffle off
to start our lives anew
despite the empty space.
Resting now he awaits
until the trumpet call
signals resurrection.

In memory of Marty

Suddenly you are gone
stolen from us by death.
In my heart emptiness.
I grope like one struck blind
but can't find you, my friend.
Only faith can touch you.
Let me fly to the Lord.
He holds you close to Him
and thus we're together.

Eternal rest grant to him, O Lord.
Let perpetual light shine upon him.

A sorrowful mystery

Did you know there are people -
consider this in sorrow -
who say the church is empty?

I hurry through open doors
and see Him in the distance,
waiting in golden splendor.
Like the doomed rush to rescue,
I rush to his resting place
and bow in adoration.
When I straighten up the air
heavy with heaven's glory
envelopes me like a cloud.

Did you know there are people -
consider this in sorrow -
who say the church is empty?

Looking around at mass

Can the blind imagine what they can't see?
Can we?

People scattered among the pews,
the priest alone at the altar,
angels veiled in radiant hues,
seraphim chanting the psalter.

Can the blind imagine what they can't see?
Can we?

Candles burning with flickering light,
Statues staring with eyes of stone,
Saints in garments of brilliant white,
apostles kneeling before a throne.

Can the blind imagine what they can't see?
Can we?

The altar holds a cup, some bread,
hands extend, the words are said.
The bread becomes our living Lord,
by seen and unseen, both, adored.

Can the blind imagine what they can't see?
Can we?

Adoration

Like thunder I explode
into the peaceful chapel.
No one looks up, the roar
reverberates inside me.
Shaking with its growl I drop
to my knees and lift my eyes.
You are there, silent and still,
waiting, patiently waiting.
My soul stills, too, your peace
settles upon me like warm rain,
thunder fades, the silence deepens,
from quiet depths prayer rises.

Before Morning Mass

Holy water cools my brow.
In the chapel candles flicker.
Old knees bend in reverence
as people enter their pews.
They quietly kneel.
Prayer is rising to heaven
without a sound.
Light falls across the altar
where the wine and bread wait.