DEEPHEARTED
By Frank Daub
Softly told –
in the manner of a wedding vow –
“I am going home”.
Said in the morning light sitting at my side.
I saw the Bride
that she had been. The GIRL
that willed to give all –
And DID.
I write it now – to help my soul
ACCEPT the fate He sent.
Belief comes now in waiting
And
Holding tight the Sacrament –
of living as He told us
So.
Bliss as words like wine pour over a pure slate,
staining it with their meaning
and reddening it with their tones.
Fervor takes over;
the scene unfolds like something already decided
as one letter follows another
like drops from a chalice,
dripping until it overflows.
My neck is craned from fatigue
and out of reverence
as ideas become flesh before my eyes.
Each word is holy—
each character is bread to the wine of emotion.
Sleep is a martyr,
dead on the altar of my craft.
My hands shake from the caffeine
flooding my bloodstream
and the adrenaline joining it
as the ritual continues.
This story is my body.
These words are my blood.
I do this for remembrance—
the hope that I can become something more than
what I am.
sacramental wine
this in memory of me ~
raindrops at sunrise
Nothing but horses on a merry go round,
painted faces, costumes and lies based on facts.
We’re all wearing masks
that disguise us from ourselves more than others,
making it so hard for anyone to really know at all
what they want or need until they lose it.
There is no typical or expected or proper or appropriate;
only expectations of propriety
and viability of options
and hiding tears behind smiles
and running up hills and down aisles.
It’s padded chairs and seat belts
and artificial light
and plans never completed-
Love never returned,
and electric blankets and solitary music
and pictures of angels
and books about lovers.
What but as bread, This appears to be
Is You, Lord, it’s truly Thee
It is You, Lord, I now receive
This is true, not just because I believe
My belief cannot create
Can’t sew a seed, give man a mate
Can’t fashion out of dust
One who knows You, merciful and just
Alone, I am capable of but sin
Despite this belief I hold within
No, my belief doth not make You to be
Nor do You exist because You, I see
To You alone this glory belongs
To be praised in all earthly songs
It is You Who instills this Faith in me
You, Who inspires my will to believe
The Sacrament of Penance (Confession) is a Sacrament in which the sins committed after Baptism are forgiven
The Sacrament of Penance or Confession remits sins and restore the friendship of God to the soul by means of the absolution of the priest
I know the priest has power of absolving from the sins committed after Baptism, because Jesus Christ granted the power to the priests of His Church when He said: “Received ye the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them, whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.”
The priest of the Church exercise the power of forgiving sins by hearing a confession of sins, and granting pardon for them as ministers of God and in His name.
To receive the sacrament worthily, we must do 5 things:
• We must examine our conscience (Write down your sins committed not to forget them)
• We must have sorrow for our sins
• We must make a firm absolution never more to offend God
• We must confess our sins to the priest
• We must accept the penance which the priest given us
The examination of conscience we should pray to God to give us light to know our sins and grace to detest them.
It is a time to keep a reverent pace
with the hymnal steps of the heart.
The days are become processional,
a folding of past raiment’s
strained with the fabric
of isolation, hardship, and loss.
Rituals are more important
as the year declines,
as nights lengthen and settle
into rumor and whispered lore.
Hold high the votive lights of hope,
cherish each child-like winter flowering
warmed in the sanctum of a quiet breath.
A fast depreciating currency,
Pity arousing like an emergency
His low earning not an excuse
For a now irritating celibacy
And choice of a lifelong recluse,
Whose quitting ought to have been with immediacy!
In closely knit societies the first outlaw,
Easily emerging the night’s gossip served raw;
In every ranking the lowly esteemed
To take up the rear among the fondly dreamed,
Be he a scholar or a voice,
A guidance counselor or one whom children rejoice:
What the hell has been stopping him from the Holy Sacrament,
If he has in a wife’ foreseen an Ornament.
Always outdoor activities shunning
But in the nocturnal hours shining,
If not among his likes the Unhappily Married,
Who when not bemoaning their marriage, already buried
Are enjoying his clever bachelorhood
And mistake avoiding manhood!
I was called
to bring the Sacrament
to a woman in fear
with a nurse as chaperone
who earlier had guided her
to the Hospital Chapel
for fear of meeting a man
fear triggered
by the gravity of past abuse.
The Sacrament of the presence
of Jesus abused
received
tentatively I said
“Shall we shake hands?”
She looked down
said nothing
I turned to leave.
With my back turned
I heard the nurse
“She's holding out her hand
she wants you to shake it.”
Her hand was trembling
I held it very lightly
very briefly.
To the nurse she said
in amazement
“I've shaken a man's hand!
I've shaken a man's hand!”
Praise be to God
for a sacrament with healing.
A strong and privileged memory from 25 years ago.
ROMANTIC SACRAMENT
Send me not roses
Carafes of wine
Send me Your words
Of love divine.
Send me not jewels
Encased in gold
Send me Your words
My heart will hold.
Send me not silver
In purple so plush
Send me Your words
Oh, make my face flush.
Send me not silks
Of shimmering dyes
Send me Your words
Bring tears to my eyes.
Send me not song
I sleep close to death
But send me Your words
For my very last breath.
Matisse’s “Christmas Eve”
in a procession of candles
Through the church window
in the 20th century of faces
impaled gingerly
in velvet glow
flickering shadows against
the walls
an organ streams
Through the church window
lost cutouts found
humanity gathering
into a moment of flame
Even Godless poets
recall lifelong enigmas
of golden glow
recording the same search
the same wonderment
Outside of spiritually empowering meditation
is nature's organic liturgy
of creation
more positively enlightening
than degenerative dogma.
Within liturgical ritual
awaits spirited medication
healing win v lose,
left v right,
yang v yin,
inhale v exhale,
ego v eco
inside v outside
below v above
before v after wounds,
Reconnecting our bicameral
bilateral
binomial potential
for win/win resolutions,
resiliently resonant
Natural sacraments
causing effective causes
with spirited
regenerating intent
holy
as holonic
iconically interconnected
Analogous metaphors
inside ecological theologies
outside neurological biology,
polypathic history of regenerators
enlightening empowerment,
once again secular/sacred
resiliently resonant.
(from The John Poems)
I absolve myself of loving you
and plead innocent
on grounds of loneliness.
My penance will be
the poetry
I misguidedly wasted on you.
For I’ll never destroy it
though the idea tempts, and reading it,
I feel a fool;
A monument to me
and my stupidity.
My monument to you.
The crumb of bread I lift to lips
Is freighted in my fingers.
I squeeze it hard lest it slips
Reclaiming a past that lingers.
'Tis a weighty rite to partake
Tokens of His riven frame.
Freely given for our sake
Oft taken lightly to our shame.
Christ's counsel the priest voices
Imploring us to recall His valor.
Securing the Spirit for our choices
Arming us against Satan's power.
The water cup I lift toward head
Willed to wasting not a mite.
Emblematic of the blood He shed
Testament of how He won the fight.
A sacred thing beyond compare
Is taking bread and water blessed.
Thereby claiming a priceless share
Of our Redeemer's noblesse.
From a valid marriage
Arises a bond between the spouses
Its very nature is perpetual
Exclusive
In a Christian marriage
Spouses are strengthened
As it were consecrated for the duties
The dignity of their state by a special sacrament.
(CCC 1638
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