Trapped

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It lured her with sparkles
Images of what she could be
Each strand a grandiose promise
Each strand a twisted lie

Without her realizing it
This new terrain strangled itself around her
And before awareness could fully surface
The spider’s poison stung deep

Paralyzed, she dreamed
She dreamed up a magical history
She dreamed she had control

Yet all the while
The spider sucked her life-force from her withering body

People attempted to free her
They tried cutting the webbing away
But she wailed and bellowed
Convinced it was herself that they were severing
So they told her about the dagger in her own pocket
Urged her to save herself
Yet their pleadings barely penetrated
Her heavily covered ears

The hidden truth was
That she fought the part of herself that knew
That knew that the dreams weren’t real
Because if she allowed herself to begin waking up
She would have to come face-to-face with the hideous spider
She would have to fully acknowledge her situation
Something too overwhelming in her weakened state
And so she chose to continue dreaming
And so
She
Chose

false god among us

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it has just about entirely consumed her
sucked most of the skin right off her bones
and is now nibbling on choice organs
impervious to the fact that once it has fully decimated her
it will forever be denied this host

it tried to devour me once, too
but I identified its hideous, distorted face and fought back
while shrieking out warnings to others

I am thrashing and screaming still

yet where I see a monster
she sees a god
and gratefully hands it her flesh
for the privilege of being in its service
and with the sustained hope that one day
it will finally come through on its promise
to make her wholly clean

“Who Do You Say That I Am?”

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Who do you say that I am:
someone who holds you back,
or the encouragement that calls you forth?

Who do you say that I am:
the condemnation in the eyes of some who claim to know me,
or a lover who is dazzled by your entire being?

Who do you say that I am:
a set of formulas that can be confined to rigid boxes,
or a person who breathes freely in areas you are only beginning to imagine?

Do not sidestep the question
because who you say that I am
has a direct correlation
with who you say that you are
and with the options that you are able to perceive
for what you might become.

Stepping Into Wonder

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The courage to live a life full of Wonder
The courage to see things differently

The courage to live a life full of Wonder
The courage to pause where others rush on

The courage to live a life full of Wonder
The courage to let yourself dream

Litany of St. Veronica, Woman of Courage and Love

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St. Veronica, you moved forward while others held back,
help me to take risks even if it means standing alone.

St. Veronica, you used what you had,
help me to be aware that I do not need to wait to creatively make a difference.

St. Veronica, you risked being shamed when you removed your veil,
help me to know when to discard traditions that no longer uphold human dignity.

St. Veronica, you saw with your heart and followed it even though this was in contradiction with the views of the public,
help me to look beneath the surface and to trust my instincts.

St. Veronica, you dropped your defences and stepped into someone else’s pain,
help me to leave my comfort zones and to be truly present to others.

St. Veronica, you touched Jesus in an intimate manner,
help me to use my body as a conduit for expressing tenderness and love.

St. Veronica, you carried an icon of Jesus with you after your encounter,
help me to recognize when I have been imprinted with the echo of a sacred moment.

Safeguarding Her Value

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Time was essential in recognizing the need for a solid boundary
Along with ongoing assurances for its justification
The necessary materials had to be identified
Built, mended, reinforced
And although the structure may be repeatedly battered
It is secure enough to hold strong

Now attention must be given to what is within the borders
Taking stock of the damages inflicted during the over-exposure
Replenishing what has been ravaged
Soothing what has been scorched

Yet even more than that
This the season to create
To discover which plants grow best in darkened places
And which thrive in full sun
To seek out and delight in flowers growing wild
And to nourish countless birds of flight

It is also an era of welcome
For those receptive of the healing balm that is offered
For those who wish to play
And for those with gifts to share

This garden may never be perfect or whole
It may never be what others insist upon
Or an exact replica of its original design
But it is unequalled
Of inestimable value
And indisputably
Unquestionably
Worth protecting

Treasures

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a lazy morning
where time is suspended
safe in his love
skin against skin
a glimpse of heaven
in our earthly forms

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