Accumulating medals,
why do I feel so empty and crass?
Praying before the most Blessed Sacrament...
wearing the brown scapular; I go to daily Mass;
give my confession every other week-
end, weekly as of late 'cause of frailties
and defects I can't escape or shake the
venial sins that strip grace from my soul
clogging the wings I need to fly with mud;
prayer hours while working...
Collecting my medals,
one too many for just a layman?
The Kingdom of heaven is at hand...
reading every spiritual book I can
get my hands on; pictures of the saints;
multiple crucifixes; a Monk prayer
app; even a home holy water fount;
a sacred space in the house, my retreat;
don't eat; pocket bible goes everywhere I do
'cause the Pope said to...
Some collect guns and bullets,
could I just collect my medals you say?
A Jesus statue in the backyard...
one of His Mother in the front; I pray
a daily family Rosary because I'd never love Him less by loving His mother more; giving
and sharing alms and social media messages;
six o'clock rises for morning prayer: dear God
make haste to save me from temptations;
acts of humility....
The weight of
my medals
I fear they
will pull me
down to the
pit of Hades!
It is true, on any given day, I'll be bombarded by an equal number of enticing, sensually captivating, technologically sophisticated, consumer goods; angry coworkers, conniving colleagues, and impertinent churchgoers bent on proving I've got six heads; sumptuous fine foods and wine; real fetal body parts for sale; friendly FaceBook "friends" and trolling troublemaking males making up fake news; scantily dressed females, their own private body parts available on pay-by-the-minute picture screens, picture that! (better yet don't); and screens upon screen of violent moving pictures laced with explosive, explicitly laced expletives, screams of ideology, hate, sex, gender blending and identity politics, just weighing down my spirit like lead metal because, don't you see, it's HERE where I get my medals.
All the rest
are simply
little love
reminders
present in
moments and
scattered through-
out the day
counteract-
ing what world,
devil and the
flesh WILL. Try
to smother
me by sin!
Throwing it
all my way!
Either way
without love,
Christ to love,
what's the point?
- Gary Edward Geraci
