You are currently browsing the daily archive for June 6, 2015.

God is love. There is no one whom God does not love. There is no one to whom God does not offer his mercy. If we, then, consciously exclude someone from our love, from our mercy, by refusing to forgive, we are cutting ourselves off from God. We are telling God that we love him, but we don’t love others whom he loves. So we are not in full communion with him.

-from Answers


Responsorial Psalm Tb 13:2, 6efgh, 7, 8

  1. (1b) Blessed be God, who lives for ever.
    He scourges and then has mercy;
    he casts down to the depths of the nether world,
    and he brings up from the great abyss.
    No one can escape his hand.
    R. Blessed be God, who lives for ever.
    So now consider what he has done for you,
    and praise him with full voice.
    Bless the Lord of righteousness,
    and exalt the King of ages.
    R. Blessed be God, who lives for ever.
    In the land of my exile I praise him
    and show his power and majesty to a sinful nation.
    R. Blessed be God, who lives for ever.
    Bless the Lord, all you his chosen ones,
    and may all of you praise his majesty.
    Celebrate days of gladness, and give him praise.
    R. Blessed be God, who lives for ever.


Of course, the poet is parent to the verse
maker, creator. Poetic embryos

grow inside me, still inside the womb:
waiting to be born, waiting for surgery,

waiting while I go rail fanning or watch
NASCAR: anything to make a memory.

A poet needs to make memories, to make
live, raw material, assembled & growing:

a zygote toward revision.
A poet can add detail like a bird or a tree

to any memory. Yet we call that poet
a fool. A fool’s what Kilmer called himself,

so why not me? Yet if you’re bold enough
to say it, you can call me co-creator,

detail adjuster, bird watcher, tree hugger,
doctor- compiler of complimentary words.

Anything other than fool. You can call me
God’s beloved.

from Facing a Lonely West



June 2015