I Am Said I (Huruma)

Place of beauty Moment of bliss Birds singing Sound of the Grotto In May I am fifteen Nearly innocent again Almost recovered From breaking down Still bruised But breathing Passing through the gap From the rocky fields Of play to churchyard prayer Entering the gateway To paradise beneath A canopy of fresh green Oasis in the desert Deep pool where raging Rapid waters cease Five stone steps To ascend Five mysteries Joy Sorrow Glory I am on my knees In unhurried prayer Making this refuge last Fending off  the future As long as I can "Will you mind me?" I wonder On the sixth step I am Bernadette silently Looking up to Mary Looking higher still The ultimate ascent That I have yearned for Since first I left it But now I must descend again To the old priest's grave And run for a further Wordless glance to Jesus In the sanctuary The sound of the ticking Pendulum clock Reminding me of an old Kitchen telling me its time

August 2, 2013 “My grace is enough for you; my power is at its best in weakness…” You can smell the flood, the after-effects wafting from the closed hotels and shops. In the river a snapped tree juts sideways into the air. Reconstruction, sacred areas cordoned off, inaccessible for now. Thankfully the Grotto is open. There’s an overwhelming innocence in the unpretentious humble pilgrims. A recently born baby in her father’s arms, toddlers, normal modern young women and men, the old, the sick; every race and nation. A lot of Indians and Vietnamese. We file along the base of the Grotto, touching the rock made smooth by millions who touched it before us, wiping ourselves with the water that seeps there. Time was when I would have been too sophisticated to engage in this. Sophistication has thankfully abandoned me and I abandon myself to the grace of the present. I kneel in the spot where St. Bernadette prayed and my prayer is intense, sad with the sorrow of those ...