Rebuild our universe,
not only blossoms returning in bloom,
but a transformation of the trees,
like the ailment of a sperm type whale
reconstructed into ambergris
the costly perfume
of the sperm whale’s lethal ailment,
so transform the mountains and all the land
in need of healing and of transforming.
In days of 2016,
with the planet wounded near to death,
and humans threatening
annulation as normal negotiation,
we turn to Mercy as a mother,
relying on her tender arms
to protect the best
of human understanding,
conforming, in our brokenness
that our strength and our comfort
depend on our trust in Mercy,
who cares for us most compassionately
when we are weakest,
trusting Mercy as a mother.
With Spring appareled in blossoms,
she gently wipes away
the soiled sights of wintertime,
to unveil and awaken
the days of warmth and of glamour,
as aromas of blooms by the billion
surprise the clouds
with beauty’s spikenards.
This same absorbing pungent
of sickening rot and vile decay,
exposing tombs unoccupied,
while filled with scented wreaths
and fragrant bouquets,
as though the fields and meadows
required more breathing space
to demonstrate the beauty of Easter,
alive beyond the blossoms,
eternal like the wind
that carries blessed aromas.
The sweep of beauty
can rival the sun,
with all its waves and streamers of light,
for beauty and light are twins
of solar generation.
This day called good,
not the Sabbath of weekly sanctity,
but a one-time sanctification
because the Father willed it.
that he sent his son to die,
die on a cross,
though swallowed by half the world.
Release your hold on Lent,
the Holy Year protests,
and preoccupation with sin,
the year of Mercy insists.
Traversing the wilderness of life
to accept the promise
of him who claimed I AM,
the wanderers discovered,
that in place of a water-gushing rock,
the streams poured plentifully,
for ostrich and jackal,
and was shared by those in wavelength
of the upward call.
The Israelites ate
their freshly baked unleavened bread
and roasted grain,
but never again had manna to serve.
Deprived of manna’s mercy,
and the water from the Messiah rock,
they learned to reach for Mercy
in the harvests of their hands,
while sharing their tasty roasted grain,
as they shared
in Emmanuel’s containment of sin,
its force a mountain of stone
which he squeezed in his grasp,
creating a pool of Mercy,
which brothers and sister shared
in sacramental abundance
when faith unlocked the larder.