THE LEADOFF HITTER IN THE DARK NIGHT / by Joe Castorino

My heart is ready, O God:

   Tuus totus ego sum;

I take batting practice,

   and the crisp crackle of

my maple-wood bat echoes

   throughout the stadium.

 

Then, leading off the game, I hear a soft

sweet voice: “Do whatever He tells you”;

therefore, when I see the Spirit signal,

   I gently lay down a regal bunt that

humbly dies to itself in the grass as I run

   to first base like a strong driving wind.

 

As I stand on first base, with a

   smile on my face from ear to ear,

my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

   for in my surrender I start to love;

however, The Beast, seething in hot

   anger, already plans his revenge.

 

When I return to home plate,

   The Beast strikes me out

over and over and over again

   with the flaming fastballs of fear,

and I fall, carrying a heavy cross,

   dizzy with discouragement.

 

My Manager benches me in the chapel,

   but lovingly teaches me to fast from fear

and leave my worries in His loving hands,

   so for three days I return to the chapel, 

for ten minutes daily, to ask for His guidance,

   and receive the Spirit's gift of Divine Mercy.

    

When I return to the lineup, The Beast

   scornfully glares at me from the mound

with his mean menacing black eyes;

   but I hear a papal voice encourage me:

Non abbiate paura,” and again,

   louder, “Non abbiate paura!”

 

By God's grace, I stand with great trust in

   the batter’s box, and I hit a line drive

whose sparkling trail is red and white,

   quickly shattering the dark night,

and as the ball falls for a base hit,

   the angels playfully dance around it.