In the beginning, the world was dark,
So it is with the Advent season,
The days get shorter and shorter,
And the nights linger longer and colder.
As we stumble through our deserts,
Sand fills our shoes and burns our feet,
Blinded by the flashing holiday lights,
We blunder our way along our path.
Desperately trying to find some quiet,
Amid screaming Happy Holiday shoppers,
And non-stop, commercial Santa songs,
Blasting from speakers everywhere.
As we journey through each Advent day,
The increasing darkness obstructs our view,
In frustration we try to outrun the darkness,
Or we close our eyes, praying it goes away.
As the darkness threatens to envelope us,
We fear the shadows and gloom they bring,
Until we realize that white is the absence of color,
And black is a jumbled combination of all colors.
Befriending the darkness, our perception changes,
The shadows confirm that the light is right behind us,
With God's love, we become creative and courageous,
Darkness becomes our teacher and transformer.
As the days pass, Advent candles bring light to the darkness,
Our prayers sprout the sleeping seedlings in our hearts,
Our eyes rise above the flashing red and green lights,
As we gaze upon the beauty of the star that led the wise men.
We follow in the footsteps those wise men trod,
Walking in the darkness toward the light,
Enlightenment from the Holy Spirit reveals,
A light that promises to love us unconditionally.
So as this Advent season continues,
We embrace the darkness with our mantles of light,
As in the dimly lit stable, a baby is born,
A true light that brings us happiness and peace.
December 10, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Making our way this blessed holiday season,
Whether our path is filled with lists and commitments,
Or surrounded by the silence of loneliness and grief,
God patiently waits with His Peace and Love.
Living an authentic life can seem like an impossible goal,
Overwhelmed with messages masked with misconception,
Reaching for the teachings from scripture ,
Turning to the Holy Spirit, the soul of our soul.
Standing in the sunlight, searching for answers,
Eyes seduced by the shadows that dart and dance,
Drawing us away from God and His love for us,
Flirting with phantoms of pleasure, possessions and power.
Seeking that hidden place in the depth of our soul,
Where compassion, humility and forgiveness live,
Where our souls go to connect with God,
A prayerful silence where minds are silent and still.
Living a faithful, authentic life,
Is the key that brings us true happiness and joy,
Doing for others and sharing the gifts that HE gave us,
Shining the beacon of love that God planted in our hearts.
Journeying down our different paths this joyful time of year,
May we all find the happiness that God has waiting for us,
May we have the courage to share His blessed peace and joy,
With all that we meet this glorious Advent season.
God of love, please help us all during this joyous celebration,
As we await the birth of our Lord and Savior,
May our hearts yearn only for the Love that You bring,
As we share your Peace and Love this Advent Season.
November 27, 2012 [Updated from December 18, 2011 version]
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Here in the silence, Lord,
we feel your presence,
your strong arms,
hold us close
and comfort our wounded hearts.
Some see you
as a helpless babe,
who came to show us the way
to holiness through obedience.
Some see you
as a strong young man,
proclaiming the Good News
that comes from those
who follow the Father's will.
Some see you
with a thorn of crowns,
droplets of blood
staining your face,
as you hang on the cross
redeeming our sins.
Some feel more comfortable
praying to God, the Father,
visions of the burning bush,
or the voice in the clouds
that helps them find
their own inner quiet space.
Some prefer to go to Mary,
needing a Mother's love,
as she puts our petitions
before her Son
Some see you in the pink evening sky,
in the sweet melodies of the morning birds,
in the warm, sunny breezes
that wrap us and keep us safe.
However we see you,
Piety helps to bring you
into all the nooks and crannies,
where we store our hopes and dreams.
November 18, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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We ache for Your gift of Piety
as we try to pray,
filled with worries and what-ifs,
minds reeling in pain,
watching memories float by,
as fear filled balloons.
We clutch our chaplets and rosaries,
slowly moving the beads
with anxious fingers,
repetitious prayers
slowly calm our racing minds,
idling the constant chatter,
as the waters of serenity
flow over us.
But our day begins and
as we leave our inner room,
unaware our heart light is dimming
as we close the door.
Ahead of us, life bursts in,
exploding our silence
with its incessant whining.
The whispering promises
of the happiness that comes
with a brand new car,
meetings and appointments push aside
the neatly wrapped gifts,
that God wants to give us.
A gentle voice breaks through the chaos
our eyes clear and we see,
a sky bright with possibilities,
our faith soars with wings of hope.
The Holy Spirit brings
his gift of piety,
to those with faith
the size of a mustard seed.
November 18, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Walking alone,
along a long, dusty path,
a path traveled by many.
Stumbling and falling,
our faces covered in dirt.
We get up and continue on.
A circular path,
a merry-go-round
of memories and regrets.
Spinning and twirling,
our minds fill with doubt.
We despair of ever getting off
this path of woe.
The mistakes we make,
over and over,
never ending sins that consume us.
We analyze and ponder,
why we do the things we do.
Determined to change,
we start off in a new direction,
confident that this is the road for us.
Striding with a new found sense
of determination,
our steps are sure,
our self-assurance is strong.
But alas,
our bold new path,
brings us back,
to the same tired, long, dusty path.
Disappointed that we were not
on the right path,
depression and despair,
return to walk with us one again.
The true answer
to all our prayers,
a vision that will put us
on the right path,
is a light that breaks through
the blindness that befall us,
a zephyr wind that clears
the dust from our thoughts.
Leaving behind
our maps and compasses,
we fall to our knees,
on the hot, burning asphalt.
Hearing the fluttering of wings,
we feel something brush
just past our ear.
Looking up, we see
the thickets and heavy undergrowth,
open to reveal
a path previously hidden.
The path not taken
beckons to us.
Without thinking,
we walk to the opening.
We see the faint footsteps
of a few souls.
Looking behind,
we see the many,
lost on the path
we are about to leave behind.
Unsure and scared,
we head down the new trail.
Guided by guardians we cannot see,
we feel a strange confidence.
Traveling alone,
we are no longer afraid.
Although this path
is filled with endless pot holes
and bumpy, uneven terrain,
our feet walk without stumbling.
Climbing mountains
with tops hidden in the clouds,
Dropping into valleys
covered in mist.
Walking the path
that Jesus walked,
with our guardian angels
always at our side,
we know that we are finally
on the right path.
The one that leads
us to God.
A God who loves us
unconditionally.
Waiting for us
while we spin and twirl,
He picks us up
when we fall.
Healing our hurts,
He binds our wounds
with His forgiveness.
When the coldness
of the world,
tries to freeze our path,
He sends us
His cloak of fervent flames,
that wraps our hearts
with His burning love.
When our loneliness
strikes us down,
He sends His son
to carry us.
Our footprints disappear,
replaced with tracks
that are strong and true.
And when the end
of the road looms ahead,
the great and almighty Lord God,
stands in the light,
with outstretch arms,
ready to take us home
October 7, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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The darkness comes slowly,
first blinding the mind,
then the eyes,
Silence,
its deafening roar,
is all that can be heard.
Isolated,
in a room full of people,
their chattering,
like a silent movie,
is barely visible.
The room with its plain bed
and solitary night stand,
speaks volumes,
Its voice,
a quiet whisper,
that connects with parables.
The open Bible
on the night stand,
its pages fluttering,
in the windowless room,
Its stories and poetry,
plays out as shadows,
on the blank white walls.
The questions,
unanswered,
lay dormant,
Waiting for the prophet,
to unveil the mystery,
wrapped deep within the messages.
Wants and needs,
all tied neatly,
with a red satin bow,
Hidden underneath the table,
waiting to be opened.
Warm, salty tears,
falling down cold, dry cheeks,
Bright lightening and cracks of thunder,
break the silence,
that binds the plaster walls together.
Darkness,
settles into a pattern,
that covers the cold, concrete walls,
Its presence becomes the norm,
acknowledged and accepted.
Questions,
without a prophet to open them,
lay discarded,
in a jumbled heap on the floor,
As darkness,
demands our full attention.
Darkness,
dances about the room,
Stomping and swaying,
to the drumming dirge,
playing in the background.
Distracted,
from reading our Bible,
The music drowns out the words,
that are meant to calm us.
Forcing our minds,
to return to those precious words,
We grasp tiny fragments of meaning,
in between the bright flashes,
and the loud claps of thunder.
Waves of darkness,
roll in and out,
Mixed with intermittent
flashes of wisdom,
Gleamed from the words,
leaping from the pages.
To some the words they read,
open locked doors,
dusty with cobwebs,
For others the words,
fall broken and meaningless,
to be swept up,
with the mud and the dirt,
tracked in from the outside.
Darkness,
enjoys being
an unwelcome guest,
Thriving
on the bumps and bruises,
As we stumble
into the furniture,
Until we become proficient,
with braille,
and wear knee and elbow pads.
Sharing,
the love of Jesus,
with those we don’t love,
Gives us a sight,
that sees through the darkness.
And when
the answer to our prayers
is No,
We accept the mystery,
and leave behind,
in the darkness,
all our unanswered questions.
July 9, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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God cares for those who are alone,
Watching over them like a loving Father,
Sending angels to be their guardians,
To light the way when their path grows dark.
To some He fills their hearts with His love,
Drawn to Him, they explicitly follow His will
For others, He fills their hearts with a love of helping others,
Spending their lives being caretakers and earthly angels.
To some He sends canine and feline companions,
Creatures that need tender love and care,
And who give their owners unconditional love,
A love that mirrors the love of God.
To those burdened with sorrows and depression,
He sits quietly with them, holding them close,
Unable to see Him, they cry out in anger
Thinking they are alone with their grief.
Some of the lonely wish they had close families,
Blind to the struggles that family can sometimes bring,
Deaf to the cries of those who are suffocating,
“I just want to be left alone!”
To those who live without any close family members,
He gives to them a very special and wonderful treasure,
He gives them the most wonderful and compassionate Mother,
He gives them the Blessed Virgin Mary.
And on top of that he adds the gift of a loving Father,
A Father that they can always talk to,
One that understands them better than any earth born Father can
He gives them himself.
June 17, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Sitting quietly with solitude,
Looking back at the people in my life,
Wondering why they never stayed,
Feeling the warmth of solitude’s smile.
Growing up with tons of toys,
A bookcase overflowing with books,
Books that brought companions and adventures,
While solitude sat quietly watching.
Searching and seeking a deep, abiding love,
Looking in dark alleys and in cold, dusky caves,
Finding fireworks, sudden bright flashes that disappeared,
Still solitude sat quietly by.
Over the years many have come and gone,
Some stayed for a few turns of the hour glass,
While others were gone in an instant,
And solitude continued to sit patiently by.
One day solitude stood up and spoke,
With an eloquence that demanded attention,
A voice soft as a sweet, summer shower,
Solitude threw off its veil of mystery.
Standing in the brilliant sunshine,
My constant companion was revealed,
Dressed all in white, stood an angel of love,
Sent by God so I would feel loved.
Whenever I felt abandoned and afraid,
He covered me with wings of sunshine,
And dried my tears with a summer breeze,
Always by my side, so I would never be alone.
June 17, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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If we look we can see Him all around us,
He plants daisies in the fields,
Bright white and yellow blossoms,
That fills the green fields with flowing happy smiles.
He paints the sky with white, marshmallow clouds,
Drawing beautiful portraits of cute fuzzy animals,
A fabric sunset knit with cerise and tangerine strokes,
A masterpiece of grand designs.
He creates the music made by the trees as they sway,
Waltzing their bright green skirts back and forth,
Their brown suits of bark standing tall and proud,
Moving to the soft, sweet music raining down from above.
He touches the lives of all those around us,
When our days are dark and gloomy,
He is the stranger who greets us with a bright Hello,
Giving us the strength to wait for the sun to reappear.
When hot desert sand storms blow through our lives,
Searing our skin with a scorching sun that burns to the bone,
And subzero, desolate nights that last for days,
He sends His angels to help us through.
God loves each one of us unconditionally,
The love that created our unique personality,
Fills our hearts to overflowing,
With a love that takes our breath away.
June 17, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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We wander through life, shrouded in darkness,
Oblivious to the love that surrounds us,
Deflecting with titanic umbrellas of fear,
The mercy that falls on our heads.
We slam the door of our hearts to His unconditional love,
Unaware of His healing presence in our lives
We cry out when our struggles peel the skin from our knees,
Screaming so loud, we drown out His tears.
Friends and family try to comfort and console us,
But their support fails to soothe our desolate souls,
Hiding in shopping malls or running in fiscal races,
But nothing fills the pot holes of our winter hearts.
Throwing ourselves into the whirlpool of our daily chores,
Becoming faceless drones locked in cubicles of emptiness,
Worshiping false gods of trinkets and tawdry treasures,
Climbing avaricious mountains to seize the leprechaun’s prize.
Until the day our broken hearts shatter,
Raining down mud from our tsunami tears,
Looking up we feel a sudden flash of hope,
Caressing our crusted crimson slanted perspective.
All sound slithers seductively back into its slimy sewer,
Hearing a small voice sweetly singing our name,
Reaching up we feel the strong hand of faith,
Pulling us out of our sickness and pain.
Infused with the energy of an army of souls,
Standing on wobbly legs fired with the heated steel of forgiven sins,
Glowing with graces given by our loving Father,
We face the new day and the challenges it brings.
June 16, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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She appears to children
Those truly young at heart
Because children have special gifts
Not weighted down with worries
Immune to the sickness
That comes from seeing social injustice
Escaping the grief of greed and gluttony
Their souls are free to fly.
Their language is simple
Conveying her breath taking beauty
With honest words born from the heart
Words that pale in comparison
To a face personified by peace
Eyes that shine like polished silver
A mantle spun of the finest gold
But the silver and gold are not metals
They glow from being in God’s presence
A treasure greater than anything on earth.
Those that have been blessed to see her
Yearn for the time they can see her again
Longing to be in her presence
Makes their life on earth inconsequential
Although they time with her is fleeting
Surrounded by those who are close to God
Time evaporates into a mist
And dissolves into absolute nothingness.
She conveys her concern for all her children
Crying tsunami tears over the loss
Of those who have strayed from the fold
Those fallen prey to the cunning of evil
Avoiding the prayers that will save them
Hiding in the darkness of their shame
Fearful and afraid of the light of truth
Wallowing in the sadness of their selfishness
She gently holds out her hands to them.
Soft hands embraced with luminous skin
A velvety voice that floats with zephyr winds
Unfurling a love that knows no bounds
A love filled with forgiveness
That comes from an immeasurable source
A love that spans all time
That knows the truth hidden deep
In the constricted valves of our heart.
For all those blessed to be able to see her
Doubters try to darken their convictions
With angry words filled with their own anguish
Portraying them as mentally unstable,
Their own sight clouded with cataracts
Of a pain filled life without love
Those burdened with unbelief
Terrified of the possibility
Of a God who loves them unconditionally.
But the joy that fills those who do believe
Embodies an area vaster than anything on earth
Filled with a peace few have ever experienced
They radiate a glow from a fire within
That burns with a unbounded passion
That emulates directly from the sun
All earthly worries and struggles
Burn into useless dust
And are transformed into
A grace that originates from God, Our Father.
January 22, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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As a young mother, she stands at the temple of her Lord,
Holding in her arms, the babe born in a manager,
Hearing the prophecy of Simeon, that a sword of grief will pierce her heart.
Dearest Mary, please help us to feel true sorrow for our sins.
The night sky was clear and cold, when Joseph awoke from his dream,
Holding in her arms, the babe the wise men had just honored,
They flew on the wings of safety, leaving Judea for a foreign land.
Dearest Mary, please help us remember that Jesus is always with us.
Absent in the swirls of dust and noise from the journey back from the Passover,
Holding in her arms, the fears for her son lost somewhere in the midst of Jerusalem,
Finding him after three days of anxious searching, sitting in the temple with the scholars.
Dearest Mary, please help us find our way back to Jesus after we sin.
Looking into the solemn eyes of her son, amid the jeers and taunts of the angry mob,
Holding in her arms, the love that poured from eyes as he carried his heavy cross,
Knowing in her heart that this was the path her son must travel.
Dearest Mary, help us to carry whatever crosses God wills that we carry.
Standing at the foot of the cross, watching as her son’s earthly anguish is finished,
Holding in her arms, the memories of the son who had shown all the depth of his love,
Turning to John, the beloved disciple, at Jesus’s request, she became his mother.
Dearest Mary, please teach us how to live our lives for others.
Begging Pilate, Joseph of Arimathai requests consent to remove Jesus from the cross,
Holding in her arms, the bloody, battered body of her son wrapped in the finest linen,
Red rain falls, as her tsunami tears mingle with the blood from his many wounds.
Dearest Mary, help us to remember the anguish of Jesus’ passion before we sin.
Watching as they roll the smooth heavy stone barrier over the entrance to the tomb,
Holding in her arms, the sight of her son’s lifeless body as it disappears behind the stone,
Her heart torn with grief, flies into the tomb and rests softly on top of his lifeless form.
Dearest Mary, please help us to turn away from the savage death that sin brings.
The Seven Sorrows of Mary are a precious gift to us,
Holding in her arms, the hopes and dreams of all her children,
She looks down with love on all those with rosaries and chaplets held in prayer.
Dearest Mary, please give us the courage to take your hand,
as you gently guide us to feet of your son, Jesus Christ.
January 15, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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As another year gets packed up and boxed away,
We open up a new year full of hopes and possibilities,
And we fill our shiny new box with new adventures.
However, lurking in the dark corners and crevices,
Lie suitcases filled with unresolved shirts and socks,
Some neatly folded, others just tossed in at the last minute.
Over the years, with trips to many different lands,
The number of suitcases slowly multiplies,
Each one filled with fashions of should haves.
Our shiny New Year’s box becomes cluttered,
With dusty old leather cases, patchwork designed cases,
And even some cartoon covered suitcases.
Suitcases bound with colorful labels,
A variety of labels of all shapes and sizes,
Reminders of all the places we have visited.
Some trips were short, yet others felt never ending,
Outings that started out filled with great promise,
But ended up with suitcases crammed full of regrets.
Perhaps this is the year to make a clean start,
With a resolution to travel lighter,
To finally discard all our heavy burdens.
As we brave the dust and cobwebs,
We turn to God and pray for the strength,
To delve into the painful memories tucked away.
Opening suitcases filled with trendy fashions,
Made from misplaced values and cheap imitations,
Fashions that lack texture and significance.
Looking at the labels on each of the suitcases,
Each one leaves us seeking something more,
Wondering why we wasted our frequent flyer miles.
As the days of this shiny New Year begin,
We find ourselves seeking a new beginning,
Filled with wonderful new hopes and possibilities.
And with the help of our Lord and Savior,
HE crushes our suitcases with His cross,
HE stamps our passport with His love.
January 10, 2012
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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