My Merciful Manager
hands me the ball,
and I take the mound
in the ninth inning
since our team is
ahead by one run.
After going to confession,
I devoutly pray Lectio Divina
for thirty minutes, and then,
free from all affection for sin,
I say an Our Father and Hail Mary
for the Holy Father’s intentions:
thus, I pitch a supersonic fastball
that crisply crackles in my
All-Star catcher’s glove --
the first hitter strikes out,
with an aggressive
swing and a miss.
Next, during the Offertory
at Holy Mass, I offer up the
intention for a plenary indulgence —
for a specific individual, or for
whomever Our Lady chooses:
I swiftly snap off a
knee-buckling curveball --
the second hitter in the lineup
strikes out, frozen
like a cement gargoyle
as he watches the baseball
bend over the strike zone.
Finally, I receive Holy Communion
and, in a total gift of self, I devoutly
seek union with Our Lord and King:
and so, I release a knuckleball
that dives through the air
like the Dove of Divine Mercy --
the third hitter in the lineup
strikes out, waving his bat
helplessly, hopelessly,
missing it by a foot.
Suddenly a happy soul
speeds across the dark sky
like a bright shooting star,
streaming red and white
in unimaginable exhilaration,
escaping the pains of Purgatory
and finding the pleasures of Paradise;
then my All-Star catcher,
the sweet Lady of Love,
leaps into my waiting arms,
joyfully embracing me
with the kiss of peace,
to celebrate yet another
heavenly save in the
Kingdom of Divine Mercy.