To the Church Historian
[A Most Challenging Query]
I wish you could love, as a child does,
never to see, and only "cuz,"
but only know the good that is,
belongs to Christ, yes it's his.
I only wish for you to hear,
the soul so close, but not yet near,
what do you want, that's everlasting,
twixt love waning, and love waxing?
If it's not an act, you see,
one knows the ways, one might be,
do as one says, say I love you,
yet blame me not, if I love you.
Take to heart, your own advice,
teach thyself, it hath no price,
think of you, in such a way,
you are wiser, every day.
Wisdom cares, knowledge does not,
care is a verb, is it not?
for passive fruits of intellect,
are lost forever as we introspect.
Glory to God, and you my love,
blessings for you, from above, champion the poor and marginal ones,
what of them now, what of their sons?
What of their Mass, is that not what,
you champion for, against the corrupt,
of the soul within, who's really starving,
who are the poor, in this world we are carving?
I say to you, oh rich in life,
removed from, the impoverished strife,
you, historian, why do you know,
the poor love God, through seeds they sow?
People around you, suffer pain,
broken bone, and bloody chain,
but you, are the one, that needs the most,
and yet you, refuse the Holy Ghost.
So physician, heal thyself,
counsel and counsel, until ye confess,
find courage from caring and let it live,
and to you life, is what it can give.
throw away demons, and thoughts that haunt,
as they jeer and they sneer and tease and taunt,
embrace your eternal, compassionate one,
and bask in its glory and invisible sun.