Sunday, February 14, 2016

Anticipation

Good day to you, gentle readers.

I fear I have left you long in darkness and silence.  Much has happened these past months, of both a joyful and sorrowful nature; too much to be properly penned here - too much to be catalogued, chronicled.  Let it suffice to say that in silence God's work is perhaps oftenest done to us and in silence life still shall be made to move.  But enough.

I doubt not that you are desirous of something more light, more literary.  I have written a number of works over the past weeks and the choice for which of these to present today was not an obvious one as it has sometimes been in months past.  After some thought, though, and in light of the Gospel readings of the day, I have here for your perusal a piece I left lingering a while but am at last desirous of uncovering.  I am, as ever, not perfectly satisfied with its sentiment and shape, but I think I have captured something not negligible.  I shall leave you to guess at what.  

May He Who Is be with you always!

+JMJ+

Anticipation: The Wedding Feast of the Lamb
By Caitlin LoTruglio
Copyright 2015, 2016

Flames erupting in a goblet
Ardor of the blest
The blaze of new wine
And laughter, hot laughter, in a girl’s calm breast –
Father, is this not how You love us?

Hot agony, pure ecstasy,
Sears me, scarlet lover,
Grieving through her fuller joy
I behold, my Lord, your Mother 

Beauty uncontainable
Blushes oceans, rivers forth
Repeatedly, repeatedly,
My Lord! Come to us speedily
Thoughts burning, yearning, greedily
Hearts parched for want of Thee

The phoenix of old resurrects himself
And from David assumes a new form
The roil of the ages lashes about
Burgeons and breaks in a blackening, beckoning storm
My Lord, is this not how You greet us?

At war is the soul reconstructed!
Divinity piercing the mind!
My Lord, My God, My Father,
Blaze – burn, flash, slash, and leave blind!

Whisper to us then in the darkness
When we, drooping to depths of the earth,
Ask –
Does emptiness reign in Your kingdom,
Or of feeling only is’t dearth?

Thorns and nails claw us, alive,
Incisions break open each mind
Thoughts belonging to others
Sink, bite deep, call others in kind

And there on the edge of the altar
At the brink of despair and the world
Flaming highly, my Lord, strikes white splendor –
From the pinnacle God is not hurled

Solace returns to the quiet
Interior fountains blue-flow
They softly, and softly, remember
The sigh of the love that they know

Tranquility seizes her triumph
And Peace thrusts his banner to stay
A silence burns over the stillness, burst
From the heart of a high holy day

Let the wine of triumph be poured
Let the heart of the lion breed flame
Let the wounds of the King be unveil’ed
Let the leper return without shame

And all that is left, the deluge of deeps,
Teeming with bright azure sheen –
All as it is as it was and shall be
My Lord – as it ever has been.


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