Sections

Joyeux
Lumineux
Douloureux
Glorieux

Joyeux

no man knew then the hour

 

nor knoweth it now

even tho Isaiah It announced

and John echoed Him

 

yet, there he stood, diaphanous, robed

in Trinitarian regalia, ad-

dressing me, 1st ever – Meryemana, rapt

swathed in radiance, sensing

the warmth, yeasty, from within as if

 

Light emanating

 

from My Throne Womb

about to burst forth, I

 

let it be, My maidenheart, enLightened

 

pulsing, Incarnadine Morse Code

through my veins

 

 

Magnificat anima mea   

   dominum!                              

precursing St. Teresa herself

 

:  giving what was asked for

   taking what was given

inscribed upon my very being be-

coming, in essence esculent . . .

I heart-throbbed, suffused in delirial luster

 

Totus Tuus! Totus Tuus! Totus Tuus!

 

for the Word was made flesh

at last

and it was the Beginning

all over . . .

Again

 

 

 

 

Fully radiating the Holy

 

Spirit, our triptych on

her Elizabethan porch stands

empanelled there thus, the scene seen

 

we three

:  she & hers; the Dove; I & mine

 

in One accord – of Love Above

 

while inscribed below, our thrice-

fold litany

fraternitas; unitas; caritas

 

awash alike in the triune font, beyond

our wildest conceptions, paired

miracle births about to be;

 

the baptist baptized by the

spoken fulfillment of the Old

Testament’s logos from a womb with

a view to

 

the future Perfect

 

with Whom He’ll be well pleased, these

twinned tuning forks, My Son’s struck from

within, juxtapositional

John’s R.S.V.P.ing

in concerto allegro, sings from without . . .

their mutual adjacent cadence

 

 

 

afloat in their geminal

sacre couer sacs

spring-fed from their Jordanian reservoir

 

of our Mosaic amniotic flow in

the natal neo-

ark of the New Covenant where

there’s emblazoned upon the transom

 

veni creator spiritus.

 

Our pulse I sense, racing in

its Morse pararhymes

 

:  live, die, rise; live, die, rise;

    live, die, rise . . .

 

toward the mouth of our eventual

 deltas, and

My Son’s Alpha & Omega til

 

in principio, consummatus est, futurus in

aeternum

 

and so shall be, let the worldshine with

fervor, zest, and zeal upon these

 

 nouveau homme fetalities!

 

 

 

  

 

Thus duly recorded

 

in the City of David

 

led along the right path

for His Word’s sake                                                                            

 

in a stable prepared for me

in the presence of strangers

I lie down on

 

pastoral straw while

 

my head’s

anointed with goodness and

surely mercy-

ful sweat drops of blood, and

 

lo, Jesse

and all the heavenly host

they comfort me for

 

here the Shepherd is My Lord

 

as His communal blood runs

over ever

the cup of me with its waters

still, now; forever

 

in His temple

Me, He shall dwell, all

 

the days of My Life ( is His )

even

though I walk through the

shadow of the Cross

 

I will fear not.

 

What

shall I not want?

or was it circum-

scription 
  instead . . .
My Sweet Baby
underwent, a prefiguring of

His eventual disfiguring

 

when they’d try to erase

the Word (in

   a circle

   they’d size

   Him up) although on the day

 

of His Presentation (only

 

   the first – not ever the last) the

peoples’ Presence came and

went unnoticed, for

they were

 

too intent (oh, the fore-

   shadowing

   of His flayed skin)

 

at the Temple there

they unscrolled Him, signed His

death warrant

and sealed it (not yet with a

   kiss) with His blood

 

upon the vellum of a Lamb for

 

ever the teachers of the Law

rarely the knowers, as

only the circum-

 

scribes and pharisees

doing their usual little dance of

 

circumlocution

 

 

April Fools

 

the first at eight, the last at

thirty-three

 

the best perhaps at twelve

 

when for three

 

days, how long else would He – no

when He

first planted His minis-

 

Tree in the Great

Temple Hall and sat, enthroned (Who not

   wholly filled yet

   their holy chair [His not yet

   throne]) and surrounded

by the aged priestly throng; not the first

 

 

 

not the last, but

 

the best Paschal April, for

not their profane

knowledge, but properly taught for

 

prophet-

 

izing His Messias’

dead rejection, as His Father’s Business

Man low-

ly death, whence He practice predicted the

un-

lawfull led

without an ear to hear, who

 

will not then, there . . .

nor in His twelfth year, here

 

 

by Carl Winderl

 

2967 Evergreen Street

San Diego, CA  92106 – 1404

619 – 849 – 2417

carlwinderl@pointloma.edu

 

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This page, maintained by The Marian Library/International Marian Research Institute, Dayton, Ohio 45469-1390, and created by Kelly Bodner , was last modified Monday, 04/11/2011 13:35:00 EDT by Ramya Jairam . Please send any comments to jroten1@udayton.edu.

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