Catholic Stuff
Across the room, resting,
Silent, on my bookshelf,
Our Lord and kind Mary,
Keeping track of myself.
Christ on my crucifix,
Looking off to one side,
Ashamed to look at me
Where I’m lost in my pride?
The Virgin beside Him,
Holding Him as a child,
Alpha and omega,
For my sin thus defiled.
Come down from that small cross,
Turn your head toward my face;
Forgive my imploring
For a sign of your grace.
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Not Donne nor Herbert nor Crashaw nor Vaughn,
Just pathetic small verses that help me get on
With my damaged and broken self, my low self esteem:
It’s either write small verse or stand down and scream!
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A series of small verse (rather like small beer, perhaps, though I’ve forgotten what that means, mostly, but see below for a definition):
#1
Six empty water jugs
And they’ve run out of wine;
Just fill them with water;
That will be my first sign.
#2
Each person is thirsty
For the water of life
That fulfills all longing
Like a man for a wife.
#3
The universe demands
That we watch and be smart,
Give grateful thanksgiving
For each small walk-on part.
#4
La vida es sueño;
Thus says the good poet.
Awaken, my dear love,
For in time you know it.
#5
Sunlight hit the solemn cross,
A metal one of three;
It burst into a silver flame,
Its source concealed from me.
[more “Catholic Stuff,”/ these three “empty” crosses are hanging from the edge of the bookshelf across from my chair. The sight was quite spectacular to find the middle one blazing away like that when I woke up this morning. I was still in bed then, the curtains were tightly closed, but there it was, a brilliant “silver flame” between two metal crosses that remained in the dark. I understand that the brilliance was a natural phenomenon, but I also understand it as a sign of God’s presence: the God who frequently makes His presence known in secondary causes. Up above after all (fourth stanza) I asked, begged, implored for a sign of God’s grace. les]
O give thanks to the Lord for he is good/For His steadfast love endures forever. [Psalm 136, more or less.]
O God thou art my God/My soul thirsts for thee/My flesh longs after thee/In a barren and dry land/Where no water is. [Psalm 63, more or less].
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Small beer
A modern Belgian tafelbier
Type Lager or ale
Country of origin Europe and North America
Alcohol by volume Between 0.5% to 2.8%
[Text under the Wikipedia image of the bottle of small beer.]
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“Small beer (also known as small ale or table beer) is a lager or ale that contains a lower amount of alcohol by volume than most others, usually between 0.5% and 2.8%.[1][2] Sometimes unfiltered and porridge-like, it was a favoured drink in Medieval Europe and colonial North America compared with more expensive beer containing higher levels of alcohol.[3] Small beer was also produced in households for consumption by children and by servants.”
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[I seem to have gotten it right after all! The image is that from the Wikipedia site under the category of, you guessed it, small beer, but there is more interesting text about small beer there, if you are interested. In any case now you can see how the image and meaning apply to the verses, metaphorically speaking. Ha! les]
