The One We Hope In

 

High and low, Holy, hylomorph-

Ism, makes life lived so wondrous

And our diff’rences but a dwarf

To those who’d say: huge and cumbrous!

With this flesh we crawl, leap, and run;

Using our hands to furl the flags 

That waved all day in the full sun

By soldiers carrying body bags.

It seems we’ve so much in common,

Same bodies extending into

Space. Yet, some minds clutch the bottom

Rung of a man’s moral IQ,

Impeded by what more than free-

Dom to make one’s own wrong choices,

Again and again; liberty 

Denied, now just angry voices.

The beauty of our condition:

We can still sync to the One, High

Power of the Vine; perdition

Put out of the picture; ally,

Filling the hungry with good things,

Waiting for our hearts to open,

Our minds to unfold with new wings;

To fly with the One we hope in.

Gary Edward Geraci

Seeking A Sign

 

Could we be so shallow;

Our Lord appearing,

Holy Bread singing,

To the tune of a little show;

Maybe dancing, a miniature 

Man, enveloped

And quaintly clothed

In a gaseous, super-

Terrestrial space fog;

Might we still insist,

The sameness of the routine, desist,

Change; a new prologue,

Written and directed,

Contemporaneous

With what most pleases us;

Our boredom liberated?

Gary Edward Geraci

Mighty Rock

 

Felt a certain fullness of fallenness as a boy,

Short of falsenesses to be multiplied to destroy.

Forceful was the inclination to be impulsive,

But even more were the reasons to be decisive.

Pillar, living to be earned on the open water,

Pulling woven nets full of fish to sell or barter,

Into the boat where Christ called Jesus would one day call him,

With a hearty catch that would fill his craft to the brim.

Now catching men and moving faith to walk on the sea,

The Master kept him close and showed him who he was to be.

Put him in his place and foretold of his denials,

With love and mercy strengthened him for many trials.

A band of brothers, though cut from less than common stock,

Would found His saving church on Peter, the mighty rock.

Gary Edward Geraci

Mystical Melancholy

Is there really beauty to be found deep within? 

I don’t know, it seems I carry a cursed demeanor 

marred and disfigured by the pride of many sins! 

Oh what loveliness lies to be mined from my soul? 

To what depth must the auger drill? I’m afraid it’s bottomless… 

I’ve now plumbed it into the abyss. 

What about the effort? 

the persistence in trying to right all of those wrongs? 

the genuine chasing of repentance? 

the offering of reparations has varied and as imaginative as a rock strewn surface?

Is this beautiful? 

Is this finally something truthful? 

What will my God think of it when we finally meet face-to-face? 

Isn’t it perfectly human to worry that it won’t be enough? 

And I let this steal my joy!?

Gary Edward Geraci