
The Shroud of Silence |
Struggles of the Soul |
Trapped in the Tomb |
Jesus Falls for the Third Time |
Jesus Meets Veronica |
The Fire of the Holy Spirit |

The Shroud of Silence
We stumble in the darkness of the bright sunshine, Wandering aimlessly as we search for our lost soul, We drown our sorrows with drinks that leave us thirsty, We gorge ourselves on food that leaves us hungry. We feel alone and fill the echoing void with hollow noises, The newest devices that connect us with faceless people, Watching meaningless TV or mindlessly surfing the net, We dread the silvery silence as if it were an evil enemy. We are constantly on the move, afraid of being motionless, We arrange mundane meetings and showy social engagements, We impatiently stand in line waiting for our turn again and again, As we ride the busy roller coaster hoping the route will change. Dazed and confused we stumble into the hall of mirrors, Frozen in fear, we cannot look away from the reflection of flaws, As each mirror reveals the ugliness and contempt we feel inside, We wonder why we don't have the strength to look away. Finding our way to the merry-go-round of bad choices, We give the attendant our ticket and find our seat, Wanting to pray passionately to stop the horrible ride, But terrified it will discharge us into unknown territory. Until that horrifying day when we finally run out of tickets, We find ourselves totally alone and abandoned by everyone, And as the dreaded shroud of silence begins to wrap around us, We cry out to God in desperation and beg Him to come save us. When the fog of fear lifts and we slowly open our eyes, We see a sandy beach and a line of footprints behind us, And as we realize that Jesus has been carrying us all this time, We finally see the shroud of silence as the strong arms of Jesus. The silence is also where we walk with our Mother Mary, As we meditate on the precious mysteries of the Rosary, We walk with her and together we witness all her joys, And she holds our hand as we persevere in all our sorrows. When we shut out the noise in our life and go to a prayerful place, Our divine indwelling, the Holy Spirit, God's priceless gift of love, Comes to us, teaches us, encourages us and gives us direction, In our own individual shroud of silence, we meet God face-to-face. As our eyes slowly adjust to the brightness of the sun, We follow the footsteps of Jesus and stumble less, He gives us water that bestows on us everlasting life, As well as food that nourishes and sustains our hungry soul. So, as we wrap the shroud of silence tightly around us, Our souls soar with bountiful prayers of thanksgiving, And as we drop all things not of this materialistic world, Our hearts and souls are filled to overflowing with God's love.October 15, 2017
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path

Struggles of the Soul
Some days we struggle with, Gale force winds and cataract rain, We cry out from the pain, Of the sins that nail us, To our cross. Other days we stumble, Through the searing sands, From the weight of the wood, Our throats parched, We thirst. We cry out for a single drop, Of the life giving water, HE promised to the woman, The Samaritan woman, At the well. And then other days, We get tossed about, In our tiny toy boat, Drifting through overwhelming waves, In water filled with shark fins. We grasp our Rosary, Petrified hands passing over beads, Feeling abandoned and lost, We send out whispered prayers, Into the endless void. As the pieces of our prayer of sorrow, Float aimlessly in the darkness, Angels slowly gather the fragments, Placing them in flower baskets, Laying them at the feet of the Virgin. She picks up the shattered scraps, Dries the rain and the tears, Wipes off the searing sands, Sews the wounded words together, And offers them to her Son. Together with His Father, And the Holy Paraclete, The prayers are transformed, Into a glorious, luminous love, That flows into the aching soul. A love that heals our cataract eyes, That soothes the searing sands, Alleviates the weight of the wood, Calms the winds that rock our boat, And fills our heart with peace and joy.June 6, 2017
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
