Preposterous

(re-post from 2017 — reflection on the coming Triduum)

O preposterous Thief
breaking and entering to
open cracks in baked soils of
our hardened Heartland.
Onto a parched clay
thirsting ground you
splashed and splattered
crimson waters, a
dreadful drenching
awe-inducing
hope-producing
life-diffusing
inflowing of
Thy Kingdom come:
Into the Land of Impossible,
the Possible.
Into the Land of Fate,
Providence.
Into the Land of Won’t,
Will.
Into the Land of Can’t,
Did.
Into the Land of Not,
Is.
Into the Land of No,
Yes.
Into the Land of Old,
New.
Into the Land of Sin,
Pardon.
Into the Land of Despair,
Hope.
Into the Land of Death,
Life.
Into us, the fissures of men
a porous earth
priestly nature’s undoing
redoing by
calling down Downpours
of re-creation
offering to desert-death
a Garden bloom.
What Corpse planted is this,
dreaming Impossible Dreams?
Hear, O Royal Priests
God-with-us whispers Upward in His dying:
“It is finished!”
His proposal, our acceptance.
Now new, we,
anything can be, as
miracles martyrs mercy Mass
testify most eloquently!
O Come, O Come
all you who’ve tightened the knot of Eve
’round the neck of our God!
“All you” is me
me in my every binding sin.
Behold, in cradle and cross
One of Three, entangled yet
untangling — by the Ave to Nova Eva
They set us free.
The slain Gardener
unobtrusive as the dewfall
heavy-laden with sowing seeds
scattering profligately
profusely
wastefully amid our dying deeds.
Beneath His footsteps earth splits
gaping, yearning, open’ng sunward
toward a Light of Light
blooming glories song:
Awaken!
Sprout!
Thrive!
Flower!
Die as Seed Sown
upwardly, downwardly
impregnating all with Eternity.
¡Absolutamente imposible!
In
silent
wait
watch
with
patient
joy
give.