Sunday, March 6, 2016

Pondering Amidst a Season of Penitence

A blessed Laetare Sunday to you, gentle reader!

In the spirit of Lenten sacrifice and keeping one's focus on things not of this world, I have for you today another, older, piece of mine that I lately found and polished up a wee bit.  It is, I admit, didactic, imperfect, and perhaps it will not quite please - but, then, were we made to be pleased?  Were we created for pleasure alone?  The answer, I would dare to say, is at once more simple and more complicated than it may seem.  But that is a question for another day.

In the meantime, then, I offer for your perusal and pondering this little tidbit which - I hope! - will encourage the practice of penance without itself being one.  But perhaps some queries are best left unaddressed...!


+JMJ+

Brevity
By Caitlin LoTruglio (née Clancy)
Copyright 2015, 2016

Say not “I am not old”
Nor “I am well, I am healthy”
For in life you have no measure
You know not when you are wealthy

The boy on the playground swing
The man on the motorbike
The girl with her cat’s-cradle string
The working woman on strike

The one may fall from his height
The other meet with a crash
The child may take an infection
Her elder fall under the lash

No warning may precede each
A demise needs no clear call
Though warnings ever abound
One fate will soon befall all

Are you watchful, good sir, are you ready?
Little lamb, who will own your dolls?
Lad, do your playmates shout “steady”?
Lady, your Maker calls.

To each a solemn promise
To each a holy oath
Each day we arise from the ashes
Fall to dust as we plight our troth

Conceived in the glory of Heaven
Received by the frailties below
Made up by our doings and darings
Taken up or let down for to Know

So in your brief space of December
Which comes you know not how or when
Adam’s son, do your best to remember
That love is beyond mortal ken

One final injunction I leave you
One final thought to recall
Though the last of the last shall ensnare you
In the end it is gift to us all

Therefore, my dear,
Child of God’s breath,
Remember you are never more
Than an inch

From death.

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