Short Missal Poems

Russians supplied mission old bells.
High in tower chime their slow knells.
Listen, great their single tone swells.
Honor those dead.
Time to mourn alarum note tells.
Missal lines read....

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I reach the autumn of existence
Acknowledging an absence 
Of rehearsal for life,
Accepting that which is unseen;
I welcome God in my life by need
As I sit in a pew for worship
Thumbing the well worn missal
Trying to reason the idea of faith.

Bookmark my life:
Chapters inspired 
By love and strife,
Pages of bliss and yearnings....

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The  cavernous  cathedral still hums and echoes
with hymns coming down, it seems,  from nooks
and rafters of its ceiling. It  trembles  softly still.
                   Long after the mass.


A  veiled, old woman  fingers a long black rosary
as she thumbs  through a dark, worn-out missal
in her wrinkled hand. She sobs, sighs, prays still.
                    Long after the mass.


....

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An American Hero

Sammi
you're the chosen
the only cat who can
save us all from
Wails along with
the First Lady
you tried to warn
everyone
in the
White House
no one believed
the letters
when no one
is able to take down the
head of the bad
nor any of the others
you get into a jet
you take flight
high above you begin to
speak
you only have
one single missal
you become
An American Hero
Sammi
you're the best
you're still honored...

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With alacrity now, I give up

That, which my belief once usurped

To my thirst like a cup

However, the longing never stopped



Deem not, a-going astray

My new will to not

Genuflect, statutorily and pray

To that in marble or ivory wrought



I have not traded the missal

For a bride’s love nor wedlock’s ring

But my early truth, in a trickle

Hast dripped; a new faith, entering



Yet, methinks am gone astray

For the new truth, sounds several leagues away...

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