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Thursday, March 24, 2011


This poem is for Saint Therese of Lisieux. the photograph is an actual funeral photograph of Saint Therese .


We were not supposed to compare

The miracles when they occurred.

One was certainly not better than another;

The roses of Juan Diego to those of Theresa

of Lisieux. We were not to crumple at the

Tiniest comment. What of tears anyway?

We should be able to rise up to the very

Top of buildings without moving our legs.

Surely there would be the burning that carries

Us higher and higher to where finally

We could finally become less and less.

So we spill over and flush the earth

With our tears and quiet sorrows.

We will open the serape of Juan Diego

To see the face of the Virgin, we will find

Joy in the smallest things as we watch our

Hearts empty and fill with love like the locks

On a canal, lifting us up or lowering us

To the clear way around all obstacles,

The way singing does or looking into the eyes

of the beloved, the light reflecting, souls dancing.

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