Higher he soars, the one who calls us to more Eyes stare, the clouds do pirouettes A silhouette against the advancing sky Some cry distraught at it happening again: What's to gain if the Master disappears? Memories of the first mass Bread broken, wine shared Hope poured out, on sandy stone On a hill gasping with bare bones Break oh break, hard heart of mine As our Lord leaves to another sublime clime. Oh wake, oh wake hard heart of mine The promises form out of the clay Of the fabric of time before me Hope covers my shivering body In quotes of all that He uncovered From our knowledge new discovered What wisdom we missed, Isaiah! For now, a silhouette against the advancing sky He goes before us as advocate: He lives. (c) nyonglema
Tag Archives: catholic
Sola scripturina
Welcome to high school, where the books Need cranes, the pens get drained And, and... you'll overload the brain! So, wise student, see here this gizmo: All formulae, all concepts here for you, Picked and chosen all that pain to eschew Newton's central idea, Lorentz's too Lavoisier, Curie, Mendeleev, Bohr, more In little print, focusing just on core. Of course the details long to be read Upon the hundreds of pages that hide, Behind each of this books pages' side Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut................ This student Luther, the know-it-all Has determined that the Principia is Not needed to get the central theses. That our little book intended to aid Is solely sufficient, so ditch the rest, Rely solely on these excerpts for the test. (c) nyonglema
If only…
If only I had done more, been more, prayed more!
The sand and the mud are all mixed up
And the sun fish lie dead on the shore.
I wonder how they gasped for air, while the
Waves beat the sand, sending ripples of
Soothing sound through the air they couldn't breathe.
The plastics of the tourists are crab obstacle courses,
Once filled with juice, once desired
Now cast aside. Filth all around, and death follows.
If only I had done more, been more, prayed more!
The sand once a sheet of beige now is polka-dotted.
The dye finisher botched the mix, and the chaos
Created is just plain filth, and death follows.
I watch the Church tearing itself apart from inside
Like an infiltrated Iron-Man suit; from the inside.
(c) nyonglema
Myriam Batjoachim #motherofGod
The Angel offered to seize it all:
Your peaceful days gathering water
Your anonymity doing God’s ways,
Waiting for your spouse to take you
In order to save an ungrateful people.
You said yes!
The governor forced you on a census, with
Baby pressing your bladder,
With back ache, spots on your face
No room to calm Braxton Hicks
Just you Joe and the animals
And the grass the animals ate
And when it was time to push,
You said yes!
The prophet embarassed you with your newborn,
He promised you the grace you knew
He promised you lots of pain new
And you pictured the sword, your heart
And figured greatness breeds pain
And looked at Joe’s encouragement,
And said, well, yes!
And at Cana, where the harps hung on empty cups
You turned to your baby boy
All grown, all full of hope,
And bade him do them a favour.
Yes, you set it all up, for his
First miracle, and the Lord
Said yes!
And throughout his ministry, he would taunt you with denial
To teach love of neighbour beyond family
But you were the first disciple,
You rode his pain, you shared his joy
And I can picture the conversations of
Mother and son, advise shared, wisdom shared
And through rain, sun, hail, gale, miracle,
You said yes!
And when his coronation came close on a donkey and palms
You saw the blood that would end
The journey of love; you saw the manger
The temple, the sermons, the crowds,
The miracles, the thorns, the cross,
The blood that would end it all.
Yet, you said, yes!
And as John watched your tears reflect his blood, whence
You couldn’t parch his raging thirst
Nor re-nurse those childhood wounds
Nor hug the pain out of infant tears
Nor sing a lullaby to ease the sleep
Nor rub his back to heal the pain,
Your tears said, yes!
And as they took the nails out his hands, as he lay on you,
And love slithered to constrict your chest
And the tears bubbled out to heal his death
You sought to comprehend it all
And prayed the roles were reversed,
And God said, you’ve done well my child
For the salvation of many, and again,
You said yes!
(c) nyonglema
Searching for Eggs #HappyEaster
Happy Easter to all of you; Seek the Light as it pours into your hearts
Where can those chocolate eggs be?
Eggs beaten, made into omelettes.
They said you can’t make one without breaking eggs.
So God took a pan and broke a few…they sounded like bones:
The egg white as water, the yolk as heavy as blood.
Mine was, anyway, the promise of Adam.
I saw a curtain rip the Earth apart,
As a cross took God on a roller coaster ride
To a destination we all must go…but all fear to go:
Like wanting to go in a public toilet…but…
The yoke was heavy on humanity, and God broke it
He made us new, and I saw Mandela’s advice:
It went something like:
Aim not for your fears, but for your hopes.
So God bled tears on stone, and went for one hope:
That your soul (well our souls) would find light
Even in the deepest darkness!
He accepted the treacherous lips of death
And the deprecating thorns and cape that drew his blood.
He did it for you, that you may have new life with him
On the day He gave new life to Himself. Amazing right?
God died our days away with His pain, love, and light.
Those eggs look pretty that way….if any of this was about eggs anyway.
(c) nyonglema
Bright Lights #transfiguration
Whoa! I have never seen this one before!
Diamonds sparkling where trees swayed, casting
Their awestruck projections of myriad rainbows
Upon our faces, and straight to our hearts.
What feeling is this?
This brings me back to that day on the boat,
When salvation changed my trade, and made the day after
Never the same.
How can I describe this post-war type
Peace that pervades my heart like a first breath,
Like a first love?
Even the fragrance of white lilies swims into
My nostrils, are the others getting this?
Who is that? Wow, that beard, that robe.
I know.
I know.
I know.
This is amazing, should I talk to him?
Should I inquire what he did when we left him behind?
Should I…wait, and who’s that now?
Oh the beautiful chariot of fire. Chariot of fire? Chariot of…
My goodness, are we really here? Rabbi, is this where
We are promised?
Is this where we shall find rest after it all?
Rabbi, this feeling should last forever.
These bright bedazzled rocks, the sweet music
That paints joy all around us subtly,
These smells never before smelled,
All this should last forever.
(c) Nyonglema
waghni 