Wednesday, January 10, 2018

3 Beautiful Poems by Priest Chaplain Mary Sue Barnett ARCWP

Priest Chaplain Mary Sue Barnett ARCWP
The Grand Cathedral

While sleeping
just before sunrise
I say,
“Come on up little girl.”
And there she is,
instantly rising from my depths,
cheek-to-cheek with me in the light.

Together, robed in white,
we walk as one,
silently, inconspicuously
through the grand cathedral.

To this one who says,
“I am depressed,”
I give bread.

To another who says,
“I am lost,”
I anoint with oil.

To she who says,
“I have no hope,”
I bless with words.

To he who says,
“I am numb,”
I breathe Presence into the pain.

To each one
the little girl assures,
“You are beautiful,
You are worthy,
You will heal in Divine Love.”

Together, robed in white,
we walk as one in joy
through the grand cathedral
where healing is more beautiful
than the sun, excelling
every constellation of the stars.

Walking Inside The Divine

Now I know
I have always
held the keys
straight from heaven
for every beckoning
door on this
cold and lovely earth.

To walk the
corridors of suffering
is a stroll
inside the Divine
I have always
held the keys
to be so free.

With each and
every door
that I swing open
Christ appears
ever unique
everyday a new
face and a new cry.

I walk
the intimate maze
of human sorrow
listening to each
flash of heaven, human beings
their tears
on wise
anguished faces.

As I arrive
with humble
bread and cup
to share a
meal of love
and tenderness

I see that
we are
the Presence
as told by
the tears
on their wise
anguished faces.

I have always
held the keys
to be so free.

A Chaplain’s Epiphany

At the table
he says
to me
“I am

From my sea
of silence
I see his
downcast face

From my deep well
of quiet
I see his
tortured mind

From my wide sky
of peace
I see his
heavy soul

From my river
of repose
I see his
mournful heart

Then as if
breaking from
my chest wall
my fleshy heart
stands upon the
table and speaks

“Hope is like
a little light
always there
if even covered
by the night
whether you see
it or not
and it says
‘come to me’
and never
ever stops
‘come to me’

At the table
my exposed heart
greets his
suffering soul
so little
it all is
so fleeting

and golden
this is
the hope that
is the whole
of me

Our encounter I
place in the
gentle light
of the mystery
of the Epiphany
that says
again today
‘come to me’

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