To Rise Again

inspired by the spirit,

spired skyscapes draw then 

direct the eye, a line

drawn heavenward; diaphanous,

follow Falcon rocket plumes,

divider of the sky,

high above the steeple;

the Ruppell's griffon vulture

flies and chases,

its strength received is power

from on High.

to soar in flight

and fight through the heavy

cloud cover of noxious, riotous smoke 

that would mask a clear purity

and keep us from

drawing near the height

of mercy and grace;

faces fixed, afflicted by

anxiety and abuse

now gentler, softer in appearance.

the bird's-eye, a tired cliche,

energetic drone-eye views: 

a coastal crag and clear

blue waters below underlain 

by shifting sand sifts swift in 

current and constant motion, 

relocation while reshaping 

itself into newer, better 

versions; dendriforms mightier where 

wind buffets and the exposure 

chisels and trains. strengthened and 

battle ready the soldiers 

of Christ advance, ground gained in 

every era, then and now.

Gary Edward Geraci

Quality Containers

I am going to open a small store and sell

exotic fish; a small store in a three store strip

center located on the corner lot that front

faces the neighborhood where I live, work, and pray.

On the end is a donut shop, the anchor tenant,

“Baker Donuts” and two empty spaces next to it

for lease. There I’ll stock African cichlids that originate

from the lakes in the Great Rift Valley like Lake Malawi.

Cichlid collections, kept in crystal clear tank circles,

attracting casual cyclist parties and walkers alike.

Passing by, you’d stop in too, browsing generous contents

of colorful livestock, aquatic life scenes, and

my aquariums - double polished daily – (my

workday penance offered at three pm, just after

my regular break, a coffee and donut next door,

to the cause of new beginnings, this existence) -

tell of the clean, quality containers that I'd sell.

With easy access lids and fish nets, I’ll fish fish for

expectant customers and commercial clientele;

a gentle plop splash back into its community

while others are dropped into clear plastic baggies

with explicit acclimating and social

distancing instructions to go with every sale.

Peaceful scenes, bubbles by purring primed pump motors

surround stripes and shimmering scales. Full, vibrant health,

the sick are healed. Aqua, electric blues, shiny dime bright

silvers, mustard stripes, tinged and tawny lateral lines,

fluorescent fins; my planetary residents

begin to exist, were caused, loved, and now wait your

adoption; their care a delight to all at your place.

Great gifts from the Master, the Maker, the Creator,

I’m opening a fish store next to Baker Donuts.

Gary Edward Geraci

Particular Judgement

you would fear it too 

as inclined as you

were to rely in life

on intelligence. rife

with manipulation, 

you abused your station. 

suddenly, now face to 

face with the One who 

sees all things as they are,

as they really are,

you’d be fearful too.

you’d be fearful too.

Gary Edward Geraci

To Ask, To Cry

atoms and electrons arranged, 

caused, acts originating 

from absolute nothingness. 

the effect, mater, now matters, 

a platform for poets, 

rational thinkers, and 

serious inquirers.  

planting two feet into 

ground that isn’t preexistent, 

baffling, the vast numbers 

whom didn’t see it. 

content to conclude

planetary beauty an

entitlement, her order

the staple, stable science

serves bland pastiche on plates.

is it not worthy of further 

study or consideration?

but to ask, an axiom acts

and transcends the empirical;

to cry, inclines his Holy Hands.

Gary Edward Geraci

Touch and Smile

Touch and smile’s on quarantine, you’re so much like me,

Your eyes smile unlike any others I’ve seen.

Strangers yes, but now, a strong sense of family,

Touch and smile’s on quarantine.

It’s been a while now, I’ve stayed in, remained unseen.

Dark brown eyes, dreadlocks hang, gloved and masked nurse Betty

Delights my soul as she pulls a vile of blood, machine

Readies it, and sends it to the laboratory.

Breathing shallow, the ventilator at fifteen

Breaths per minute, a Great Light basks me in its Glory.

Touch and smile’s on quarantine.

Gary Edward Geraci