Valuable, verily volatile, a voluble Volvo salesman voices the first reading, rich with alliteration, sacred literature, Scripture, during a votive funeral Mass for a vocation director, finally breathed his last just prior to summer vacation, voice and vocals amplified by a VOX tube driven sound cabinet - sounds suspect to some “All just poetry” but I suspect you’ve already thought of that...
I mean we get that
We all get that
But you sally towards us now - an ally - while just yesterday - the wile of society - all together gathered masticating salad sides and pizza plates at Sally and Sals Pizzaria - swearing to all these allegiances with modernity and eternity - piece of a platitude: this attitude towards a man and a woman locked in wedlock - multitudes of children - for the rest of their human existence - faithful only to each other...
No, this doesn’t escape us
Nothing like this is going to get past us
Even missionaries to mission lands accept missing the faces of those who will eventually take the seed. Will that be my mistake? No. How many may now know of Peter and how many may now know of Paul without Peter and Paul ever having known them? Ever. Millions upon millions. Meanwhile, mentoring men on uhm
the works of Undset upset milquetoast millennials who’d rather just uh coast...
Well they’ve been dead for a long time
We wouldn’t expect it to be easy to understand
This mission’s a perennial slinging of the grain, singing in and out of season - woody weeds among the wheat- granted, a yellow speck among a sea of yellowish green - you don’t quite stand out well enough - you won’t - more like vague poems recited by heartbroken vagabonds - those few who refuse shelter for fear of theft of the few things left they own - “the stench of sin” - once obscure poets themselves...
Yet we’d call it a masterpiece and you a laureate among poets
We’re not so troubled by that after all
- Gary Edward Geraci
Description in the works. Here’s one take-away
ReplyDeleteworth masticating on: Concerning matters of the truth: ‘volatile’ in that he is ever ready to flee from untruth and the transient to that which is true, beautiful and stable. Or, perhaps more resolutely, ‘tending or threatening to break out into open violence” against frauds, falsehood and dishonesty. Think Jesus with whip in hand before the money changers: ‘verily volatile”.
Following the four weightier stanzas in the poem “Contemplatives In The Middle of the World”, one journeys with a group of lay contemplatives, narrated by a spokesperson for the group as he recounts ordinary lay ‘mission’ work that he has observed or perhaps offered. Nothing spectacular - from lay people reading Scripture during Mass to friends gathered around eating pizza while discussing the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony. At first, our spokesperson accuses his interlocutors of inflexibility and indifference to the Christian’s mission. As the stanzas progress, he does not hold back or sugar coat the difficulty of the job at hand: from encountering cynics and skeptics, their indifference, to a lack-of-recognition, and the often bleak reality of not being able to see the results of one’s work. Because of its unimportance and vagueness to the contemporary culture, the intellectual side of Christian work, in this case a men’s group studying the works of Sigrid Undset, seem to offer little “worldly” rewards to it’s laborer. He compares the work to a movement of initially vague poetry that will be later recognized in the future as great work - despite the utter poverty and destitution of its authors, now vagabonds. Surprisingly, in God’s providence, they, the skeptical group responding in the two line stanzas, are warming up and by the end of the poem, they appear to be on board or, at least open to more dialogue.
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