In Eucharist

May 1, 2020 by Be Holy

All that I need,
All that is good,
You bring to me in this Eucharist.

Help me to desire,
All that You want to give me.
Open my eyes,
To see myself as You see me,
And long for You all the more.

I abandon myself to You,
That You may make me holy,
And do everything for me,
By Your limitless grace.

You, Before the Altar

April 24, 2020 by Be Holy

Opening my eyes
And lifting my head
From my prayer,
My eyes fell upon you,
My friend.

Your steady gaze
Fixed on the naked Savior,
Your arms crossed
Over your breast
And you,
Lost to this world,
Spoke my prayer.
You, in iconic stature,
Embodied my heart’s cry.

Bowing my soul,
I turned within
To pray with clarity
In humble poverty of spirit,
With Faith’s certainty,
The Lord had heard,
And smiled on my desire.

Rising with my closing “Amen”,
I looked
Only to find your place
Before the altar,
Now abandoned,
Yet the holy sight is seared
On my impressionable spirit.
It lingers still.

Your gifted presence
Shall long capture,
And hold fast
The essence of being
At which I hope to arrive,
In the tabernacle of my heart,
As in pleading it resounds.
Anchored to an image
Of prayerful adoration
Living in my mind’s eye.

My God be adored,
And Your children
Forever graced.

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

April 22, 2020 by Be Holy

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

Sorrow In the Midst of Joy

April 21, 2020 by Be Holy

In the midst of joy,
I bear many sorrows.

For the perfection
Of the Trinity’s All Holy
Work of Love,
I place my longing,
My yearning,
Next to your perfect sorrow.

May my cries
Pierce your Immaculate Heart,
O Holy Mother,
As you behold your Son,
In His Dying.

What good can come of sorrow?
You, Queen Mother,
Who sit enthroned
Beside His throne,
Sharing the sweetness
Of Love’s fulfillment,
Know,
And count it all joy.

The One Son,
The One Christ,
Bears Mankind,
As He bore the Cross.
Savor the shed tears
And offer them,
As you did your own.

I await the morning,
The bright dawning
Of Love’s true laughter.