The Tombs Could Not Hold Them

 

“The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised.” Matthew 27:52

His tomb was sealed and flanked 

By guards with orders.

Our tombs opened,

Saints without borders:

Went into the city,

Amidst shouts of joy,

So have no pity

Death does not destroy!

Went into the city

And showed ourselves there,

So have no pity,

Been raised by His Prayer!

Went into the city

Many were amazed,

So have no pity

Jesus to be praised!

Christ evaded the flanked cavern

Where many did search,

Rose from the dead,

With bodies, His Church.

Gary Edward Geraci

Begin Again

 

In every dry and crispy lawn,

Green gets lighter except when,

Near the curb, where wind blown sins,

No seeds of weeds take root and spawn.

Sprouts of darker, invasive green appear,

Without regard here, for the perfect

Intentions, the daily efforts,

The ‘master men’ who tend it fear.

So does a swarm, a swiftly moving

Line of militant black ants

Invade; invading, now in the confines 

Of your most secured place resting.

There are so many! 

Where did they come from?

Worthy of mocking to believe

I’d be perfectly insulated.

Others, ‘self righteous’, would remove

Every last book, without reprieve,

Works or thoughts or poems too,

An erasure, a cultural cancel, 

Yet they themselves still get ants and weeds. 

One sure remedy, His loving Mercy to pursue.

And then,

Begin again. 

Pray. 

Begin again.

Gary Edward Geraci

Rebuttal on Rebuttal

 

Rebuttal after rebuttal,

What comes after the sum total?

New knowledge? Yes, if but disposed.

Higher wisdom, the truth exposed,

But these rebuttals without end,

One’s will fixed so as not to bend,

Becomes something less than sincere,

A twisting (of minutia here)

Contrarian’s unquenchable

Aversion to the Lord’s table.

Delicacies of sophistries,

Dishes of look-at-me-selfies,

Crowd away culminating truths

And claims falling beyond “the bounds.”

Entitlements to contraction,

The scientific reduction,

Let’s limit them to one apiece,

Then move on like the wise in Greece,

Making it our very mission,

The instruments of transmission.

Gary Edward Geraci

Bring His Name

 

Granted tools, toys of joy,

And love written from within;

They’d write like Leo Tolstoy,

The diabolic to destroy.

Yet some come seeking magic,

A power to be harnessed,

To yield and be dramatic,

For the follower and fanatic.

But everywhere and at all times,

I’m pursuing you in great haste,

Quick to forgive all your crimes,

To speak with you in verse and rhymes.

Look and look again,

With no start and no end,

Fix your gaze upon my reign:

Sea, sky, and terrain.

If only one would love,

Seek no further and sit

Before the Sacrament of Love;

Receive the gift of grace above.

Gary Edward Geraci