The depressing rain falls,
As the sky weeps sorrowfully,
And the heavy humidity
Horribly weighs me down,
For I am imprisoned in the
Dark gloom, with seemingly
No way out, and yet,
Sweet Madonnina d’Amore,
You smile upon me and are
Silently with me as I carry
My daily crosses, and so
You patiently remind me,
Over and over and over,
To fix my trusting gaze on
The Passion of your Sun,
For above the clouds
The sky is always blue, and
The weary world is warmed
By the Living Light of Love.
Almost all
Had abandoned
My sweet Son
As He hung on
The cross,
But during His
Sorrowful Passion,
I was with Him,
To the end.
Dearest one,
When you feel
Lost, hanging on
Your little crosses,
Have no fear,
For I am there,
I am always with you,
Always, always,
To the end.
In the old mission church,
We, faithful pilgrims, are
Packed together tightly
Much like votive candles,
Our weary wicks waiting
To be lit by Our Lady,
With the fire of the Spirit;
It wasn’t the real tilma,
Yet the good God has
No limits whatsoever, so
After mass, I approached,
Not expecting anything —
But when I touched her,
Love’s flame filled me,
And the Divine Mercy
Warmly embraced me.
I start the day with you,
Close by my side,
My hand caressing
The pearl-white rosary
Like your soft gentle fingers,
But too soon I walk away
And foolishly forget you,
So you throw the beads of
Your holy lasso around me,
Lovingly, and oh so gently
Draw me back to your side,
To live the holy mysteries
Together, in awe and wonder.
Very few know the Dark Night,
Like St. John of the Cross,
But more of us may experience
An Eclipse of the Son:
For a short period of time
We don’t see Him,
We don’t hear Him,
We don’t feel Him,
But in the dark sky
The dazzling corona of
Pure Light reminds us
That Jesus is silently there,
Wearing His crown of glory,
Yet in a twinkle of time
It is over and He is waiting
To embrace us with the
Sweetness of divine mercy --
I patiently trusted, clinging
To the divine sense of humor,
And my blind eyes were
Soon opened again by the
Brilliant Light of Love.
She gently rocks me,
back and forth,
in her slender arms,
since I’m a little babe
who can’t find Jesus
alone, without her;
she lovingly caresses
and warms me in the
cold dark night,
and her smiling eyes
twinkle in the Light;
her soft rosy lips
sweetly kiss me
as she leads me
faithfully and joyfully
to her merciful Son
in the manger,
the Bread of Life.
Dedicated to my Delightful Daughter
The long, arduous journey
was finally over,
More challenging than going
from London to Dover;
Clarissa Candela opened
her deep, dark eyes,
She got out of bed not
expecting any surprise;
For the last 33 days it’s been
a time for new prayers,
Almost like climbing a beautiful
resort’s elegant stairs;
Going upward towards God
in an imperceptible way,
She didn’t notice any spiritual growth
when she knelt down to pray.
As the beacon of dawn
gradually conquered the night,
The sinful, fearful darkness
was very quickly put to flight;
The angels unfurled the banner
of God’s light across the sky,
As on the freeway Clarissa
calmly drove in the desert so dry;
Her pilgrimage was to the beauteous
chapel of Our Lady of Solitude,
And since she could see the cupola,
her arrival was a certitude;
With holy sunbeams striking a
stained glass window from afar,
The chapel looked like a lighthouse
reflecting Bethlehem’s star.
Clarissa got out of her car, and a
sweet smile danced across her lips,
Her long, dark hair through the comforting
breeze ever so gently whips;
Looking at the chapel, she saw arches
and columns in a style European,
The dappled desert stone, rustically
elegant, made it look Galilean;
The cupola, topped with a simple cross,
was Our Lady’s jeweled crown,
And the t-shaped tau on the gable
declared good St. Francis’ renown;
Clarissa looked up, twirled around,
and saw an immense sky so blue,
She had never seen such beauty clothed
in such peace, ‘tis so very true.
Then she entered the chapel
experiencing a spiritual thirst,
Truly there were not many people
at mass on this January First;
Their few voices were humbly and
quietly raised almost inaudibly aloft,
And the Franciscan priest said mass
in a voice that was very, very soft;
The devout Poor Clare nuns were
all engaged in the deepest prayer,
And, honestly, the mass was so silent
that it was exceedingly rare;
When Clarissa’s 33 days of prayers
of consecration were finally done,
Might she be in danger of ending
as uneventfully as she had begun?
But St. Louis de Montfort’s
Consecration to Jesus through Mary,
Was recommended by her wise old
Irish pastor Monsignor O’Clary;
He had preached quite a fine homily
about this special devotion,
Saying, “It can really change your life,
if you have the notion”;
But now let me share with you
one rather noteworthy fact,
St. Louis’ closing prayer is
really a form of holy contract;
She knelt before Our Lord’s
beautiful crucifix near the altar,
And she dearly hoped that her
heart would not ever falter.
Midway through this closing prayer,
Clarissa’s heart was passionately,
Preciously pierced by the sweet sword
of the Spirit; her soul, suddenly
Brimming with God’s majestic mercy,
soared in a spiraling celestial
Crescendo of God’s love for her;
fearing that her heart, like a fiery
Supernova, might explode with emotion,
she silently slipped out
And sat quietly, alone, on the sofa
located in the pilgrims' parlor;
Here she serenely surrendered all
to the Spirit, like a noble
Knight of Christ, Through Our Lady,
The Queen of All Hearts.
Then like a giddy geyser she gushed
torrents of light-hearted laughter
And happy, heavenly tears; this golden
cascade of pure love poured
Over her soul like a warm, wonderful
waterfall of holy honey; deep down
Inside, the Spirit was strumming on
the harmonic harp of her heart, and
She was deliciously, delightfully deluged
by this overwhelming ocean of God’s love for her.
Afterwards, Clarissa softly strolled
back into the chapel to finish her
Closing prayer; approaching the altar,
with awe, she beheld the crucifix
Where Christ the Courageous heroically
hangs; from the back of the church
She felt his love as a light, blissful,
balmy breeze; but as she
Drew closer to that crucifix, she felt
His love magnificently magnified as it
Ignited into an intense, surging storm
of explosive, electric joy;
Kneeling before that same crucifix,
as a bold, brave warrior, she battled
Through her emotions until
word by word, slowly,
Meaningfully, she finished
her prayer of consecration.
Every year for the rest of her life
this holy devotion she would pray,
She would always return to Our Lady
of Solitude on the very same day;
Just as Our Lady had very few truly
remarkable days in her saintly life,
Clarissa had few days in which intense
joy pierced her soul like a knife;
Although she never again experienced
a cascading heavenly waterfall,
Every so often a raindrop of pure,
holy love her heart would enthrall;
In the twinkling of an eye the sword
of the Spirit would pierce her soul,
As if to remind her that perfect love
in Heaven must always be her goal.
During the deep dark night,
I open the eyes of my soul,
and I see her before me,
glittering in glorious brilliance.
She smiles at me, softly, gently,
and reminds me that she rejoices
greatly when I meditate on the
Holy Passion of her sweet Son.
I listen to the magnificent music
of her most wonderful words,
and Light shines in the darkness,
burning away the folly of fear.
Do whatever He tells you.
Surrender. Yes, surrender.
Totally. Completely.
At this very moment.
And don’t worry --
Don’t worry at all!
If you stumble and fall,
I will be there to pick you up.
If you get hurt and cannot walk,
I will carry you in my arms.
He will always lead you,
In the light of His love.
Remember, He loves you.
And I love you, too.
As I gently finger the beads of the rosary,
I touch your warm soft hands,
I gaze into your merciful, majestic eyes,
And I contemplate your loveliness;
Together our precious prayers mingle,
And rise up like sweet incense,
Its scent perfumes the halls of Heaven,
And delights the Lord of Light.
She is the Star of Bethlehem.
The compassionate Lady of Love,
The powerful Virgin of Victory,
The sweet Mother of the Messiah,
Silent and holy, calm and bright,
Her dazzling beauty shines in
The dark night of unknowing,
And she points the way for the
Wise men and wise women
Of this world who wish to know
The Babe of Divine Mercy.
It took a cannonball
For God to get your attention,
To teach you what it is
To be a true knight --
A knight of Christ;
And so He guided you
In founding the Jesuit order,
And as the Light shone through
The colorful prism of your mind,
You discovered God’s goodness,
God’s truth, God’s beauty;
May your Spiritual Exercises
Draw us more deeply into
The Sacred Heart of Jesus,
To be intellectually illumined,
To be socially sympathetic,
To be aesthetically alive,
To be spiritually strong.
Whispered sweetly, Maria’s
“Yes” ripples and reverberates
Through the Halls of Heaven,
And the Spirit speeds through the
Atmosphere in a powerful pulse
Of gleaming, virginal white light
Into the humble House of Gold:
And, behold, The Divine Mercy is
Incarnate.
Trembling, I hid in your mantle, protected
From the dark night of unknowing;
You guided me up the steep, perilous path,
Towards the sparkling, starry heavens.
The demonic winds gusted, and with
Frightful ferocity thunder shook the air;
Serpentine lightning darted in the sky, and
Lava streams slithered down the slopes.
But then the Sun of God dazzlingly dawned,
And He put an end to the dark night;
Beams of bright light, both red and white,
Streamed soothingly into my soul.
Atop the summit, you took my hand,
And together we flew into the Light;
We laughed like merry little children,
Soaking in the sunshine of pure Mercy.
Inspired by Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
The divine
sense of humor
makes us laugh,
Without it,
life is just
lived to the half;
We are happy,
and we smile
with good cheer,
For the Lord’s
perfect love
casts out all fear.
The Holy Spirit
Is very much like
A sweet beautiful
Monarch butterfly,
Delightfully dancing
With indescribable joy,
Bobbing up and down,
And then to and fro,
Gliding calmly upon the
Sweet swirling breeze of
God the Father’s will and
Into the heart of Jesus.
Inspired by the writings of Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
“Is life worth living?”
You wonder out loud;
For much of the time,
You’re lost in a crowd.
Life is worth living,
The bishop was right;
We find our mission,
And walk in the Light.
Gentle St. Mother Teresa
Said that Jesus came to her
In the distressing disguise
Of the poorest of the poor,
And, of course, she was right;
However, is it possible that
Jesus also comes to us
in the distressing disguise
Of the inconvenient,
Of the unexpected,
Of the cross?
I’m nothing more than
a hole in the ground,
and nobody notices me,
and I’m okay with that.
But when I receive the
Body of Christ, an invisible
spring of living water leaps
up out of my peaceful soul.
These crystal clear waters
of pure love surge upwards,
with unbounded freedom and joy,
praising the King of Heaven.
About you we really don’t know a ton,
Except that each of you was an Eastern son;
Why did you follow that big bright Star?
To bring the newborn King gifts from afar?
Maybe you were very humble,
Making Arrogance trip and stumble.
Did Baby Jesus teach you to love?
To know His peace from way up above?
The Babe in the manger was truly a sign,
Through whom you experienced mercy divine.