Immaculata, full of grace
Obedience is a softer shade
Courage is the reason why
Never let them see you cry

If you follow her down darker streets
From nightmares you will shrink and shudder
And meet bitter heartache before now unheard
Devotion is a loaded word

Immaculate woman, save the day
Mercy is your sword
Pierce the core of every heart
Gather all exiles along the way


The Good Samaritan

The song is simple and it rhymes
Two verses and you’re done
God and Neighbor, balance these
Black or white, blue or bright crimson

There is one caveat
A stumbling so they say
Your neighbor is your enemy
Ponder that on Judgement Day

The innkeeper will tell you
To his amazement and disbelief
The narrow path to eternal life –
Wear your heart upon your sleeve


She is yar
Without a mast
Without a sail
No one can surpass her

Accouterments are out of style
Attire is a statement
The vestment of a thousand years
Shrouds the seeds of discontentment

The tunic is essential
Yet strangles and confines
The veil I have no need for
A vestige of patriarchal times

Servility is habit forming
Simplicity – the paradigm
How much is lost, how much is won
When I uncover and learn to climb

Fool’s Gold

She is the sun, she is the moon
She is the pawn, Pandora
The stars reflect her radiance
She directs the rain and thunder

Redemption courses through her blood
The crow is her protector
The blackbird and the raven
Spiral round her golden scepter

Who would be her lover?
She cradles her tattered heart in the night
All, yet none, will call her mother
Her sorrow is her heart’s delight

Her true love did relinquish her –
A gesture to her eternal maidenhood
Though she is strong and tall and bold
There she remains – his fool’s gold


What is your Charism?
I have only one
Kneeling once, kneeling twice, kneeling thrice
Until the day is done

Some do heal, some do teach
Some do cast the spirits out
Mine gathers tears and sighs
Then neatly dispels doubt

The Sisters venture without reception
With beads or buses they radiate passion
My own cannot compare to those
Who execute with pure abandon

Pauper Goddess

I ran the race
Was true and fair
Detractors gathered round
No unkind word nor selfish err
In wake of mine was found

Self-deprecation closed the gap
We galloped side by side
I sought and found my steadfast solace
In soup kitchens and shanty towns
Where lives the pauper goddess

Her white sari
And downward glance
Belied her fervent passion
To imitate and finish last
And seal love through devotion

She is

She is the one who bakes the bread
Pours the wine
Cleans the wound
Essential as fresh water
One day she will
Stand at the altar

She is the first miracle
The bearer of Good News
The source of every parable
She chooses to stand aside
Not for lack of sheer mobility
But in perfect, austere humility

She chooses when she will appear
To whom
And what she will relay
She opens the window
When she is so inclined
Acquitting each soul gone astray

While I Am discloses in flames
She is what her title proclaims
Not the follower, but the guide
Second to none
The Mother of God


I walk around with my head bent down
Viewing chance as a holiday
Have you heard how I made my rounds
Avoiding cracks till I lost my way

I enter church and I bow my head
Caritas till your sleeve bleeds red
Jonah screamed leave me be I’d rather die
Your new age love is a goddamn lie

He sat below a withered vine
Sulked and scorned, arrogance besieged
Kill me now but I won’t concede
Your hippie love is at best misconceived

I walk around with my head bent down
Humility rests upon the ground
I lose myself in the muck and mire
As such a life bought and bound requires