Mary, Mother of God

If You Want

If you want,

The Virgin will come

Walking down the


Pregnant with the

holy, and say,

“I need shelter for

the night,

Please take me inside

your heart,

My time is so close.”

Then, under the roof

of your soul,

You will witness

The sublime


The divine, the

Christ taking birth


As she grasps your

hand for help,

For each of us is the midwife of God,

Each of us.

Yes, there, under the dome of your being

Does creation come into existence


Through your womb, dear pilgrim –

As God grasps our arms for help;

For each of us is His beloved servant

Never far,

If you want, the Virgin will come

Walking down the street pregnant

With Light,

and sing

           St. John of the Cross

A Word Called Peace

Amid the bloodshed, bombings, horrors of our

raging wars

We dare to utter a word called peace.

Amid the poverty, the destitution of the

starving billions,

In refugee camps, to the orphaned, the

trafficked people,

Those ravaged with the curable and incurable


Amid universal inequities and injustices

Is it a luxury or an arrogance to speak a word

called peace?

On a planet, fading and fragile from our

plundering ways,

Is it a hope, a dream, a pious sentimental wish

To speak a word called peace?

Days and seasons are ordered by a universal


Festivals and special days we designate and


But peace is not a given, just at our desire,

We can neither order it to happen, nor plan for

it to come.

Peace is a perspective, an invitation to the

divine outlook

Planted in the soul of life.

Peace calms our raging storms of greed and


Peace dissolves our crippling fears and


Peace is not a one-day declared event,

It is an eternal disposition, made manifest on


When at each dawn all created beings can and

will express,

I am peace

I am peace

I am peace.