Another post will follow with poems 4 and 5.
This poem was written during a time of suffering and self-accusation for a family crisis.
Grieving
Lord, save me. Gripping sorrow
Blinds me. I stumble pathless, lost,
Bewildered, buffeted, storm-tossed.
Mother Mary, find some hollow for
My aching heart, so I can see.
Wrung, remorseful, aching,
Blame eats my bones--where find you, Lord,
Within this deep’ning wound?
Mother Mary, find some hollow for
My aching heart, so I can heal.
I lie upon a knife of my own making,
Etched by accusation.
My only hope your cross.
Mother Mary, find some hollow for
My aching heart, so I can breathe.
You saw your Son stretched out,
Wracked for our sins. Yet you
Could stand, upheld by faith.
Mother Mary, find some hollow for
My aching heart, so I can trust.
Find the hollow where I hide
Within His Heart.
He heals us by his wounds.
Mother Mary, Be my companion
In the dark, until the dead arise
And empty be the tomb.
This poem was written as a reflection on a piece written by Soren Kierkegaard, of the same name. My Refuge is in the Crucified One Dark, adrift, alone, awash in sorrow, knowing this--how left alone I will betray you. Since the garden such has been my sentence. Keep before my eyes the truth that safety lies in you. Let me not forget! Like Peter in another garden seeking safety, I deny and lie to hide my shame. Blotting out my promises of faith, instead for fear I spurn my friend, protesting much but failing ever. I weep bitterly. My fate is to fall. I cannot heal myself. What hope in flesh that bears the mark of Adam's sin, a scar upon my soul. O wretched woman, turn your eyes to him, you'll find his gaze sees all, and those who sorrow for their sin will find peace with Him. Though knowing of my treachery, still he bore the cross! Stretched out, staked, raked, wracked for my sins, Knowing in my poisoned state I could not find the narrow gate He opened wide the door to life and drew me in. The door where healing lies leads to His heart. Remind me when I falter. You are the remedy, your cross the cure that grants me grace, your heart a healing garden, your tomb the womb that gives us birth, our one sure hiding place.
We seek to have these gifts and fruits, but they can't be forced. They must be cultivated by much prayer and penance (I know, I don't like that word either), while the Holy Spirit provides the sun and rain in our lives to enable them to grow. Lessons One rule, seven gifts, three blessed fruits Sure guides, companions sweet Our nature made to suit Silence Blessed school of saints, we plead teach stiff-necked not to trust on human strength or need. Piety Without this gift we'd wander far not caring, blind and dumb. Now reverence is our star. Fear of the Lord Not as it seems, but gift of awe for the Creator's power makes hearts surrender all. Fortitude Enduring to the end firm purpose, courage strong, turns woes and trials to friend. Counsel Surely, Lord, we've need of this. Teach stumbling feet the path, sure guide to heaven's bliss. Knowledge Light-filled gift teach us the way to know our Father's will, keep true to it each day. Understanding Insight, Lord, into your heart, a glimpse of what you see, Can free us, grace impart. Wisdom Hard-won gift twice blest O Lord Hard lesson won from trials, This gift its own reward. Peace Souls ensnared by bonds of sin Gain this through letting go Of all that is not Him. Joy On mercy's seat all hate we cast And worries, greed, conceit, Surrendering at last. Love True longing, restless search, and thirst Remind us to desire The One who loved us first.
I know, some definitions are wrong, so I must revise them. Maybe you can try your hand below?
The second is my favorite here. Thank you.