Puccini: O Mio Babbino Caro

Dear Friends,

         A wonderful piece with which to start the day. Such is the power of Puccini's genius.

Archipoeta

Life, and Other Miracles XXI

Beholding Fire

O my Spirit! Why do you so pine for the embrace

of lovers, and follow their happy walk with greedy

eye? It seems almost as if water for parched lips,

this love that is ubiquitous, but which is never here.

Be careful what prayer you speak in silence of heart,

for what seems wonderful may yet be ice over lake,

and when one steps forth with unsure step, in unhappy

instant one falls through, and is dragged beneath the sheet.

Or, consider it yet a flame! Yea, for flame was blessed

by God to multiply undiminished, like all that lives,

and when it flickers it is a spark of star alive before

your very eyes. But spill it from its waxen cradle.

Then, it shall draw power from everything touching it,

paper and wood, house of stone and glass of windows:

it will not stop, unquenched in its passion, until it

consumes everything, and leaves the home an ashen heap.

Yet what will you do? Always live in the winter, when

the warm breath of spring flies about? Though the fire

is a force of its own rule, for this the freezing man should

banish it from life, and with it dispatch perhaps the soul?

No. For fire only feeds on what if given it, and smolders

when there is no charity. It destroys only when no watch

stands over it, punishing neglect with great consequence.

Love, thus, is full-time duty and employ, nothing less.

Are you, Spirit, yet so selfish and imperfect, ready to mix

with another person? To keep vigil over breath of lover,

to prepare for vigil over son and daughter? Ask this before

you beg the cross they bear, with such agony and ecstasy.

Mozart: Laudate Dominum

Friends,

          It is Easter! For Christians everywhere, it is a season of rejoicing at the glorious masterpiece of salvation that has been accomplished through the resurrection. Please, enjoy this prayer written in music that the genius Mozart so long ago composed, yet even today moves the hearts of all to a sublime consideration of the divine, of the eternal. And sung by Kiri te Kanawa! What more can a music-lover ask for?

Archipoeta 

Life, and Other Miracles XX

There is a wonderful museum in upstate New York, called the Corning Glass Museum. If you are ever passing through the area on your way to Canada or acquaintances in the Finger Lakes region, it is truly a feast for the eyes. For our international friends, their online gallery is an amazing resource to indulge in. It was because of my visit there that this next poem was written.

www.cmog.org

Archipoeta

God, the Glassmaker

Master, You compare Our Father to the potter,

who molds and crafts the clays of Earth, with measured

stroke and gentle touch converting what was dust

into person, infusing in his beauty the eternal part.

But, my God, let me offer yet another metaphor,

by which to approach the Mystery of Trinity: You are

the Glassmaker, who continuously takes the sands,

and in fire of love fuses flesh and spirit into one.

Yea, from the furnace You take a shining morsel

of crystal, still as if confection glowing, rolling

and stretching it, fire into diamond transforming,

with Your breath making and filling the blazing void.

Beneath Your hands, morsel into chalice changes,

You dip once more the masterpiece into bath of glass:

emerging, You endow the whole with feet and hands,

crown the top with mark of favor, placing Your monogram.

At last the vessel in full glory is circumspect by angels,

who marvel at its depth, the use for which it was made:

to hold the Blood of Christ on Earth, and thus exude

the ruby Light and Glory of the Glassmaker in Heaven.

Though as with the little Jesus, when men so cruelly sought

His destruction, this singular chalice in hands of the world

is found, it seems to fill this star with bile, mar its beauty

in bath of filth, even cause it to fall without care, breaking.

But, my Lord, for the Glory of Your Name, you gather

the crystal so neglected by the world: what was impure,

You wash away, what by repeated ablution has become cloudy,

by caring grinding and polishing You restore to perfection.

What has cracked or chipped, You doth gingerly replace,

the gem of stone with gem of living love, and what has

shattered, You place in furnace and repeat Your first work,

desiring that all the work of Your hands be gathered into one.

The beast seems to be raging through Your shop, my Christ,

the world seems to find fault, consider bubbles and veins

evidence of wrong in Your infallible work! But they know not

what the Lord doth know, and see when it is placed in Heaven’s ray.

Special Post: Pope Francis

Friends,

          As you well know, the Catholic Church again has a pope! And what a worthy Vicar of Christ the Holy Spirit has elected for His Church! I hope that all reading, of whatever confession, will be happy in knowing a wonderful and deeply moral man has been chosen to further the cause of peace and justice in our broken world.

Archipoeta

Habemus Papam Franciscum!

The chimney overflows with the smoke of joy!

Alleluia, hear the happy peal of bells! Quick,

beat the chosen Pontiff to the door! Go, and see

still the closed door, hiding his kind, gentle face.

See! See how something stirs! Is it them, is it

the grand procession that carries forth God’s

Vicar to the world? Amen, it is the golden Cross,

unmistakable, that leads the members and the head.

Amidst the red at last appears white Jorge, humble

servant of all servants, from henceforth Francis

he is known, smiling rebuilder of God’s Holy Church,

with mighty grace summoned from New World.

Yea, behold Peter! Shout the ecstasy of spirit!

All of Rome is aglow with orange light, all the Earth

with hearts delighted at the choice: forsooth Spirit

elected worthy Pope, to guide us to peaceful shore.

But quell now! No one dares speak as Francis greets

his flock, as he prays for old Pontiff hidden in Lord,

and begs the people of God confirm his Holy Office

with solemn blessing, an offering of honest hope.

My Lord! Be pleased to hear this little supplication,

for in Francis I see answer to so many of our calls,

pour out abundance of Thine grace upon him,

that till You call him, he may serve you as You deserve.

Let not the men of ill will prevail upon him, in this

Age of Judges: after new Moses and new Joshua,

let this Judge like the Savior rule Church Militant,

with charity, mercy, and abundance of blessing.

And so Canaan shall be ruled by You, o Lord,

we shall not mix and mingle with the lost world,

the corruption of old is replaced holy faithfulness,

and Mother Church in fresh waters shall be bride

ready to pass through Heaven’s humble portal.

Special Post: Pope Benedict XVI

Friends,

          It is with grave sadness that I meet our Holy Father's decision to resign. A revolutionary act, yet fully anticipated by Canon Law, it is indicative of a serious deterioration in the Holy Father's health, far beyond what we are privy to. Let us pray for Holy Mother Church, that the Holy Spirit may guide her in the election of a worthy successor to bear the unique cross that is the office of the Supreme Pontiff, and that the suffering Christ may bless the Holy Father with a graceful conclusion to his life and the bliss of heavenly reward at his passing.

          I ask that my Christian brothers and sisters pray for us, as well as those of other faiths and all men of good will.

Archipoeta

Dubois: Toccata

Friends,

          Please enjoy this delightful piece, as well as this very informative and important article:  http://www.salon.com/2013/02/10/to_get_the_gold_they_will_have_to_kill_every_one_of_us/

Archipoeta

Life, and Other Miracles XIX

Apology of Cassandra

The People clothe thee with power once again,

the world listens once more to thine every breath,

legion after legion is poured forth from fatherland,

to enslave the others, kill the citizens with hellfire.

Unity, unity you preach, equality for all: what lie

shall you spin to justify yourself more? The Republic

lies dead at your feet, not by daggers but by votes

extinguished, its citizens conformed as imperial subjects.

But the People’s perfection is the first flaw of this state,

perceived by you and the traitors that betrayed the oath:

fifty five million souls the Nation is short, blood in

womb spilled to cleanse the People of every scourge.

Yet this People is stubborn, so filled with the undesired:

what perverse physician’s knife could not end the gun,

the drug, the poison must death bring, that lies hidden

in food and water unknowingly, provoking neoplasm.

What you wait for? Don the purple for four years while,

crown of gold mint, erect your tribunal in public: shame

you have none, a Senate colluding, mete out then death’s

sentence on whosever you wish, maim yet another generation.

An ephor appoint for life to confirm this sad downfall

enjoy fullness of supreme power, unchecked by any court,

you need hear no more the cry of single mother, nor protest

of Holy Mother Church, nor see the sight of departing soldier.

All the show is finished, now begins the plan, seditious

and secret, unleashed at opportune moment. What prince

can stop you, what power on Earth? All prophets of action

seem asleep or dispersed, killed by terrible strike from sky.

But behold, your reign shall be challenged: they who love

thee now shall see the multitude and fly, a voice shall be heard

throughout the land, and it shall not be ignored, for the Lord

has anointed them to go with courage and without fail.

Yea! Hear the oracle now! Dismiss not the holy ravings,

lest you yourself ope the door for enemy. They are at the walls

with fire from their destroyed homes, ready to exact revenge.

God seek now, or perish with your power: so I say and destiny orders.

Alan Watts: Vocation

Friends,

        As you well know, our culture is geared towards the ever-elusive job opportunity and the attainment of personal wealth. Why? Let the question mull about in your hearts, for why should you consecrate your life to that which passes away? Why ought the life created by the Almighty, destined and marked for extraordinary challenge, be squandered in the never ending rat race for money? Remember: man lives not by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.

        Please, let this not be a cliche. How else can we change our unhealthy society?

Archipoeta

Life and Other Miracles XVIII

Apology of the Sage of Eden

It universe is not like the City of Man, proud human,

you who think your harshness, cruelty that knows no

mercy is the norm among the stars: unlike your walls

the worlds are not devoid of love and life, of holy grace.

That you should turn towards God, be the vessel of

good things, be steward and co-creator: for this the Lord

filled you with His Spirit, and made an eternal covenant

with you, as if you were His equal, a friend and brother.

But you chose and choose each day to not be like Him,

but surpass and excel the perfect and the excellent God,

supplant Him (what folly!), topple Him from the throne

and sit yourself upon heaven from the earth you never left.

Yet take, and hold the heavy scepter, and remember

in one instant of our governance without divine grace

we decreed for self and generations disease and death,

and allowed into world sin’s entry through the serpent.

How good it is we were never gods, for we would be harsh

deities, without compassion, such that no flower could ever

live, for lack of sun and water. Death would be our sport,

life a rarity, if ever writ and cared for, the worlds would be bare.

To the begging mother, sick and barren, we would hurl

answer in miscarriage. To the beggar, cold and hungry,

we would cause each one to pass without notice as the

street filled with dirty snow: so vicious would be our reign.

We would not know how to love as God so loves the world,

our hearts have not yet learned even angelic concern and

care. We would fast get tired, let the universe wreck itself,

some fatal error to make all good wilt: for to err is human.

But to correct is divine, to love and serve, to hope and

forgive is good and Godly: to remember one’s promise

in spite of endless spite and infidelity, and self turn from

problem into answer, that is to seek the Holy Perfect One.

Then, I hope, we shall submit and cling to our Master,

the good and understanding Teacher, be not the god we

never can be, but the people we were meant to be:

a priestly nation, first in Creation, the People of Life.

Monteverdi: L'incoronazione di Poppea

Friends,

        I greet you once more in the new year. It is fitting that this year, one I hope will be filled with divine graces of every kind, be welcomed with one of the most beautiful love duets in baroque opera.

Archipoeta

P.S. - Buy books and download free books from my Smashwords website, https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/AGPoniatowski

Life, and Other Miracles XVI

Apology of the Sage of Eden

It universe is not like the City of Man, proud human,

you who think your harshness, cruelty that knows no

mercy is the norm among the stars: unlike your walls

the worlds are not devoid of love and life, of holy grace.

That you should turn towards God, be the vessel of

good things, be steward and co-creator: for this the Lord

filled you with His Spirit, and made an eternal covenant

with you, as if you were His equal, a friend and brother.

But you chose and choose each day to not be like Him,

but surpass and excel the perfect and the excellent God,

supplant Him (what folly!), topple Him from the throne

and sit yourself upon heaven from the earth you never left.

Yet take, and hold the heavy scepter, and remember

in one instant of our governance without divine grace

we decreed for self and generations disease and death,

and allowed into world sin’s entry through the serpent.

How good it is we were never gods, for we would be harsh

deities, without compassion, such that no flower could ever

live, for lack of sun and water. Death would be our sport,

life a rarity, if ever writ and cared for, the worlds would be bare.

To the begging mother, sick and barren, we would hurl

answer in miscarriage. To the beggar, cold and hungry,

we would cause each one to pass without notice as the

street filled with dirty snow: so vicious would be our reign.

We would not know how to love as God so loves the world,

our hearts have not yet learned even angelic concern and

care. We would fast get tired, let the universe wreck itself,

some fatal error to make all good wilt: for to err is human.

But to correct is divine, to love and serve, to hope and

forgive is good and Godly: to remember one’s promise

in spite of endless spite and infidelity, and self turn from

problem into answer, that is to seek the Holy Perfect One.

Then, I hope, we shall submit and cling to our Master,

the good and understanding Teacher, be not the god we

never can be, but the people we were meant to be:

a priestly nation, first in Creation, the People of Life.