Sunday, April 3, 2011


I worked on this piece of free verse this week

I’ve come halfway through Lent
hanging on to my sacrifice
by a thread, by sheer dint of will
and right proud of myself for doing so.

Thus far, this blessed subtraction
seems more mild inconvenience
than a costly denial of my flesh
for some sacred purpose.

However, I confess that, lately,
my mind and will connive together
to justify exceptions, seeking clauses
for subtle exclusions to my sacred vow.

And, I wonder, if I interrupt my fast
for some rationalized necessity,
will it be easier the next time? Or, might I
just as well throw in the towel, confirmed
in my inability to go the distance?

And would my pathetic capitulation
lead, as ever, to trivializing sound sacrifices
others have made and are dutifully
maintaining during these forty days?

I’ve an inkling this simple vigil I keep may
become difficult and morph, somehow,
into a complex soul struggle; an insatiated appetite
magnify transcendent trajectories.

What, if anything, is worth waiting for,
so weighty that every passing desire and
all mounting powers pale in comparison
to seeing its fruition, living its fulfillment?

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