I sleep with Saint Anselm,

but wake with Aquinas

 

My dreams to envision

what the morning will say

 

Creativity’s twins,

imagined then stated

 

Epiphany’s birth

—morphing night into day

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

Should I share my truth with you,

or take it to the grave

 

And bury what my life has been…

the fearful and the brave

 

Should I share a final word,

before my name is called

 

To pour your cup into that stream

—that runs beyond the falls

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

Do we worship a concept

we cannot define

 

Do we dig for a treasure

that we’ll never find

 

Is the belief that it’s there,

enough to forge on

 

In perpetual failure,

no words to our song

 

Do we feel we’re the closest

when the bottom falls out

 

To be left further back,

and then bandied about

 

Does it even exist,

is it worth all the pain

 

The searching and fighting,

and what’s there to gain

 

Enduring the hardship

its pilgrimage holds

 

Because life without truth,

all body—no soul

 

To die unenlightened

and scarred from the search

 

Still a legacy worthy

—in veracity’s church

 

(Augustinian Cemetery: September, 2020)

Prophesy,

that sphere beyond reason

 

Belief as its bridgework

—faith as its troll

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

Time an illusion,

to make sense of reality

 

Reality an illusion,

to order and place

 

Order an illusion,

to all that’s a given

 

What’s given Divine

—indefinable Grace

 

(Villanova Chapel: September, 2020)

‘A Tribute To Augustine’s 3 Tenses Of Time,

Present Past—Present Present—Present Future’

The suddenness of desertion,

the emptiness of time

 

Abandoning each moment,

as clocks strike their chime

 

And wherego the hours,

once used and cast off

 

Are there auctions and markets

for each second that’s lost

 

And who’s to recount

the old wishes unprayed

 

With days ever changing,

and voices relayed

 

The end a beginning,

the beginning an end

 

To drift in its circle

—time never respent

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

 

 

Tapping eternity,

time rendered still

 

Back looking forward

—never until

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

A Poet’s ink… 

more sacred

than a Martyr’s blood

 

Each word

divinely measured

—all time in glory of

 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)

Phrases string together,

letters front to back

 

Birds of the same feather,

in each other’s tracks

 

Marching toward transcendence,

words reformed and strong

 

Flocking into unison

—flying into song

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2020)

While bending the rules,

and strattling the line

I pushed every limit,

calling it mine

 

Tearing down fences,

defiantly proud

The direst warnings,

rebutted out loud

 

One last price to pay,

its ticket to stamp

Shadows concealing

my spiritual ramp

 

Each vow that I’ve broken,

those things left undone

The man I became

—a life zero sum

 

(Bryn Mawr College: September, 2020)