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POETRY
Fast
Fast is the wrong word. The right word is pain or
truth or slow. Decision comes first no, curiosity, then
dreams, imagination, then fear and doubt. We know we have chosen not to
eat only in the middle of the fast.
Water has a taste, a flavor.
Ice is extravagant. We learn food is everywhere: pictures of food,
smells, sounds of food cooking
We spend all day thinking of food.
We plan carefully how to break our fast: ice cream for two.
Smugness
is a problem. We tell all friends. We feel good about self-denial. Prayer
is far from our minds. Still
control, discipline may lead someday to
prayer -- small steps for small feet. We learn the power of small things:
fruit, bread. We chew hunger.
-- Steven Shoemaker Champaign, Ill.
Untitled
YOU, GOD! ALMIGHTY! Of Course I know you! You Love
Me!! Feeding me your life Through my nostrils Breath by silent
breath For years of days and nights Through tears and laughing joy
-- YOU!
Why else Would you do that? And walk me and jog
me and swim and dance me and fly me -- And think my soul To heights
I sometimes reach And give me Ecstasy -- and Joy!!
Im on
to you -- GOD ALMIGHTY!
How can I but kneel --
-- Inge Hardison New York
White Stone
To everyone who conquers I will give some of the
hidden manna, and I will give a white stone, and on the white stone is written
a new name that no one knows except the one who receives it. -- Revelation
2:17, New Oxford Annotated Bible
Somewhere in the molecules of this small stone
-- my little name slumbers. If its spelled out in the great
hum hovering between the electrons and atoms, Ill find
it. Some say the epitaphs of all the stars wait in the
silence of such stones. Some say such thoughts are as
audacious as the requiems we write to explore them. This little
stone and I have been here since dawn. Ive seen whats
written there but dare not tell.
-- Fredrick Zydek Omaha, Neb.
Leaf
I take in the out-breath of breathers. I give out
their in-breath. I am one whole leaf among hundreds on this
branch, among tens of thousands on this tree, among who knows how many on
this planet, how many among the eons ago and to come.
Come
falls drop-off and winters stagnation, I pass through this form
to others, so much so, that I-the-leaf am no-leaf, no one-thing, entering
another breath of some whole, I strive to, but never can,
comprehend, yet comprehends me.
-- Tom Keene San Antonio
Poems should be previously unpublished and limited to about 50
lines and preferably typed. Please send poems to NCR POETRY, 115 E.
Armour Blvd., Kansas City MO 64111-1203. Or via e-mail to
poetry@natcath.org or fax (816) 968-2280. Please include your street
address, city, state, zip and daytime telephone number. NCR offers a
small payment for poems we publish, so please include your Social Security
number.
National Catholic Reporter, March 1,
2002
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