
As he perches on the window sills of parishes all over the world, the wild canary sings his song picture to all those broken in this world. He preaches retreats on God's love, so all those with broken lives, will know they are not alone, that Jesus came to bring us hope. This little yellow bird helps us to sing with wild abandon, distracting us, at least for a while, from the struggles and challenges of the heavy cross we carry. He speaks of all the closed doors that God has opened for him, and he shows us how God will redeem our lives from destruction. From the God's Gift House, to the Ave Maria House, and the First Saturday Club, he shares with us, all of God's bountiful blessings and graces. His books have helped so many, as he recants his own struggles, and calls God a Master Recycler, by how God values those the secular world has tossed aside. His first book, Fantastic! He loves me1 is a journey of “handicap” to “gift,” where he speaks of the goosebumps and awe at what God has done for one of His little birds. His second book A Log in the Stream2 are the travels of a blind missionary, where he tell us, a log in a stream doesn't stop the stream from flowing, it merely redirects it. 1Martin, Father Patrick. FANTASTIC! He Love Me. Ave Maria Place, 1984, 1996December 24, 2019
2Martin, Father Patrick. A Log in a Stream. Ave Maria Place, 1996
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
His smile is simply infectious, and his face is a true beacon, of the intense love of the Lord, that lives in his sympatric soul. His kindness to everyone he meets, is an excellent example to all, of how we should love our neighbor, as much as, if not more so, than ourselves. All of his generous acts of mercy, are done without acknowledgment, or the over-the-top fanfare that those, in the secular world so greatly need. His compassion for all the lost lambs, is shown in his calming countenance, a spiritual compass that soothes, our anxious and confused souls. And when darkness and clouds cover, our world with sadness and tsunami tears, he opens the door of God's love for us, and shares the warmth of God's mercy. Whenever we get hopelessly caught up, in the heavy, woven webs of our worries, his prayers and caring understanding, release us from our bonds of fear. His love of music and the arts, brings a beautiful breath of fresh air, to those of us who love nature, and the world that God created. His infinite caring and ceaseless compassion, is echoed by his care for the sick and dying, as he sits beside their bed, holding their hand, as he mirrors for them God's love and mercy. He preaches inspiring homilies, that speak to each and every one of us, they gently encourage and sustain us, to strive to grow stronger with God's love. We all miss his heartfelt and sometimes humorous homilies, that tie together personal stories with the gospel, and encourages us in way we are not even aware of, and helps us as we struggle on our spiritual journey. But our love for him follows him wherever he goes, our prayers and good wishes are with him every day, in a simple thanksgiving for all the spiritual guidance, he shared with us while he was our beloved pastor.December 24, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
God is our refuge and strength, so when a random sink hole, suddenly appears on our path, we will not be afraid. Or when the wicked whirlpools, of our chaotic, secular world, attempt to overwhelm us, with sadness and depression, God washes our worries away, with His cleansing Sacraments. God shatters the spears of sarcasm, aimed at our fragile hearts, He breaks the bows of cruelty, of those that despise us. As we behold the works of the Lord, He makes wars cease all over the earth, the Lord God of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge. And so we patiently wait, in a quiet corner of our soul, and we gently here those sacred words, Be still, and know that I am God.1 1Psalm 46:10November 25, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
The lenses we choose to wear are specialized spectacles, from our own unique Pharisee perception, that grants us a limited view of the world we live in. From our lofty pedestal, we boast of our daily spiritual practices, our excessive prayer life, our generous tithing, and our sacrificial fasting schedule. This view from the heights is like the self-assured Pharisee, O God, thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity.1 How quickly we cast aside our contacts of clarity, and choose to see the world through the cloudy cataracts of self-indulgence. Cataracts that cloud our wisdom, and as we ignore the 2x4 in our own eyes, our need for control makes us focus instead on the tiny sliver in our neighbor's eyes However, these cataract lenses, blind us from discerning the slimy disguise of evil, that tempts us with his prodigious promises of false spiritual grandeur. Sometimes we hide behind lenses to protect us from the world's cruelty, or sometimes because they were given to us by someone we respected. The good news is that God patiently waits for the moment, when our heart reaches out and tentatively pulls aside, our shadowy curtain of fear. These are the moments that God sends to us, His laser of love, that splinters a small sliver from our cloudy cataracts. We instantly feel the warmth of God's love and mercy, as it envelopes our cold heart, but then the possessive evil one overwhelms us with confusion, and we retreat once again behind our blurry cataracts. But behind the shadowy curtain of our sorrows, God's and His patience is with us, as HE continues with HIS laser of love, that free us from the biased judgments of our lethal lens. And as our eyes adjust to the light of God's love, we gain the insight, to recognize our multitude of sins against God. So, like the Tax Collector, we humbly pray O God be merciful to me, a sinner.2 So, as we stand in the shadow of the Cross, we trust that one day we will bask, in the glory of the Resurrection.3 1Luke 18:11November 13, 2019
2Luke 11:1
3Fr. Mark Nolette, The Anchorite, The Man Behind the Curtain, https://www.theanchorite.net/2019/10/
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
When we are wounded by spiteful and wrathful words, we clench our fists in a rage that fills us with bitterness. But as we unclench our fists, we see the vengeful words spewing like burning lava, from our own malicious mouth. And as we fall to our knees, and drop our heavy hearts, filled with resentment and frenzied revenge, into God's well of love and forgiveness, the cataracts of chaos are released our eyes. With a new found clarity we see the heavy crosses, carried by our enemies, and we see the sharp splinters and tenacious thorns, that torture their bloody heads. So, the next time they wound us, with the piercing barbs of their tongue, we open our empty hands and pick up the end of their cross, as both we walk toward Calvary.October 20, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
The Saints had great confidence, they prayed in cloud-filled skies, they prayed in moonless nights, their prayers were sent without strings, no conditions, no promises. Prayer is our intimate conversation with a God who loves us, like a merciful mountain stream that nourishes and gently guides us. Prayer becomes our paradise, a time spent in a breath of peace, where the moment is unmeasured and evaporates into silence, and the words of Scripture, come alive as visions of love. Praying for others can ignite our own fragile flame of love, and as God hears our heartfelt pleas, our soul is flooded with light and our heart glows with God's love. When we leave behind our various trains, planes and automobiles, and listen to the silence, we allow ourselves to drop our heavy egos, and take up our weightless cross. Some prayers are unrehearsed, wispy white tentative clouds of spontaneous supplications, followed by a trusting silence, as we wait for God's silent voice to speak to our hopeful hearts. Our prayers becomes easier, when we pray like young children, simple white clouds, not weighed down by worldly worries. However, when we allow ourselves to focus on worldly priorities, our prayers become complex, like heavy, dark, storm clouds, charged with static and uncertainty, they hover and threaten, unable to move. And when our prayers become a task to be accomplished, like dust swept along by the wind, it makes our lukewarm prayer neither hot nor cold, and I will spit you out of My mouth.1< On those days when our prayers feel like a hot, barren, dessert, surrounded by a lonely darkness, we need the confidence of St. Thérèse, that Jesus is just asleep in the boat. Prayer, a work in progress, is like a big crashing wave that carries us to an unknown shore, and when we take a leap and climb that wave, we are no longer a noisy gong or clanging cymbal, sitting safely in our prayer room. So, with courage and conviction we move boldly forward, bringing the Light, the Truth and the Life, remembering that God is always with us, deep in the heart of our prayers. 1Revelation 3:16October 19, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
Just like all the battles our country has endured, September 11th is no different, It is a day that will always be remembered, A day when evil came to tempt us, And so many of our people were lost. But it was also a day of great courage, In the face of evil many rose up, And without a thought to their own lives, They raced directly toward the danger, Their mission was to save innocent lives. With faith in their country and in their God, They were focused, ready and willingly, To take on whatever evil was going to bring, Confident that God would be with them, And would grant them the courage they needed. Every struggle, every grief stricken moment, Brings a commitment to help those in need, It flowers a determination to keep God present, That with His help we will persevere, And with Him, we will defeat the face of evil. Through our tsunami tears and our sadness, A pain that never seems to leave us, We are confident that God will fill, The black hole in our hearts and our lives, With His infinite, unconditional love. And we are sure that somehow with His help, He will give us the strength to forgive, The terrorists who came to our country, With darkness and evil in their hearts. And the knowledge that keeps us going, Is the faith that just as God transitions, A caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly, He will transform all our pain and anguish, Into something greater than we can ever imagine. It may take months or even years for it to happen, But we know that God always walks beside us, Working quietly and secretly behind the scenes, To transform all the ugly violence in the world, Into a masterpiece that takes our breath away.September 11, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
Our path starts out with wobbly steps, and with family and friends to support us we follow the path of our parents. As adolescents, we seek and search the many options set before us, some follow the path of others, others get lost in a circle of confusion, while some walk the way of their ancestors. Soon, our choices become our own and sometimes our path is easy, we celebrate joyful occasions, the baptism of a new life, the confirmation of God's love, a wedding or ordination, these are the times of sunny days with zephyr winds. But when our path is difficult, as the saints and martyrs will attest, scattered a midst the strong storms are God's spiritual healings that bring the lost back home, the graces that come from holy confession, or the anointing of the sick. Our path is about accepting the torrential downpours, while we continue to sing and to praise God, confident that the rainbow of God's love will soon appear. When we persevere in faith and walk the path of God's will, we put our love for Jesus first, and our eyes are no longer blinded by the glare from golden idols, and we can see with clarity, the unconditional love that God has for all His children. However, the path we walk is not free, the cost of our Christian commitment is to give up our need for power, a sign by many in the world of prominence and success, but, power also corrupts and attempts to dominate all those around us. Striving for power and control are those unable or unwilling, to travel the path of God's glorious designs. One of His many glorious designs is when He created man and woman, He gave each one different gifts and different crosses to carry. However, fearful of the gifts that God grants to women, some men attempt to chain and convince them their domestic tasks are drudgery. The women that travel this path of deception and subterfuge, follow a forsaken, dry, dusty path, and as they throw aside their special talents, they strive to claim an empty power by taking on manly missions. The strength of men and women lies in their weakness and acceptance, and just as Jesus willingly washed the feet of his disciples, we need to travel the path of servants and slaves. So, when men and women walk together, their differences move in spiritual synchronicity, sharing the burden of their crosses they work in a partnership, to serve and care for all those who need to see and feel God's love. And for those who walk alone, the Blessed Virgin Mary helps as they communicate God's bountiful love and goodness, with all the neighbors and strangers they meet on their path. When their cross gets too heavy, God picks up the end that drags, and lightens the weight they carry. And with God's grace we rejoice like Saint Paul and boast of our weaknesses, and it is then that the power of Christ comes to rest upon us.1 So whether we travel together or alone, our path may be easy or it may be filled with darkness. But no matter how we travel, we give God our Yes and detach ourselves from our possessions, we put God's will before our own, and as we obediently follow our path, we carry our heavy cross singing and praising God's name, knowing that HE is always with us. 12 Corinthians 12:9-10September 8, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
Some of us have an abyss, a deep hole in our being, our self and soul are divided, each one covered with Kevlar, and prepared to fight to the death. The abyss is deep and dark, filled with demons and desires, shiny babbles and fancy things from our hedonistic world, and as we try to focus on our spiritual life, we are dragged down into the shadows of our sins. As we try to make the choice to follow God's will in all things, our compassionate self strives to leave the sadness, but the chaos follows us with its mask of deception. We try to run away, but without our spiritual compass, we end up running in circles, chasing the pretty butterflies, disguised as angry bees. Paralyzed by the pain, and hampered by the weight of the wounds we carry, we fall further down into the ambiguity of our abyss. We pray for patience and the courage to guide us, as we blindly search for the path that God has planned. As we patiently wait in the turmoil of the unknown, we start breaking off small pieces of our hardened hearts. Gradually, we begin to see small slivers of a bright light, that gently begins to infuse our sluggish, clogged arteries, with hope that God is with us. As our confusion crawls toward the light of clarity and hope, our courage grows stronger, and as our chains of our chaos begin to slip off, we struggle through the murky quagmire, of our sadness and sin. And it is through our honest reconciliation and prayer, that we slowly find our way, at least for the present moment, from the abyss that divides us. With the knowledge that all too soon we will return to our abyss, but with each return, we are confident that our prayers, and the faith in our heart, will make our visits in the void, an experience that will teach us, how to grow closer to our loving, heavenly Father. 1Nouwen, H. J. M. (2014). The inner voice of love: a journey through anguish to freedom. London: Darton Longman & Todd.August 25, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
As we stagger and stumble, the hot desert sand burns our thirsty tongues, and our soul seeks nourishment the world cannot provide. We try to hide from the heat under tents of vanity and pride, but the strong sandstorms strip us of our false power. And as our moral compass spins out of control, we wander aimlessly searching for a direction, that will bring contentment to our hungry soul. Falling to our knees we pray to our loving God, for food to help us on our journey, manna from a manger, a flame of love giving freely from the shadow of the cross.1 And as the Holy Spirit showers us with fortitude, our thirsty seeds of courage blossom into patience and perseverance. With our new found fearlessness, we share the strength and serenity that comes with Christ's love. O happy mind and blessed soul, which deserves to receive you the Lord God, and in receiving you is filled with spiritual joy.2 1Sheen, Venerable Fulton J. (2019). Magnificat (Vol. 21, No 3, May 2019). Boston, MA: Ecclesiastical Provinces, pg. 123May 10, 2019
2Kempis, T.homas à. (2019). Magnificat (Vol. 21, No 3, May 2019). Boston, MA: Ecclesiastical Provinces, pg. 100
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
With a thundering violence, white water waves of nausea, deposits forgotten debris dredged up from the deep sea floor. The outgoing tide viciously, snatches and steals away, the footprints of precious loved ones, Ominous dark rain clouds, loom overhead in gruesome clumps, and a salty deluge spews, from the murky abyss of melancholy. Deafening dissonant booms, erupt erratically from above, as sadness and anger take turns, flashing fireball of flaming arrows. Eventually the storm lessens, and the dark clumps of gray, dissolve into wispy white tendrils, and the frozen white crystal balls, become caressing summer showers. Memories of happy times dance, in the iridescent spray of the incoming tide, as sadness and anger sails into acceptance. The beach is littered with shells of all shapes and sizes, filled with the loving voices of family and friends. Revealed in the bright summer sun, is the infinite patience God's love, and knowing that He holds our cherished ones close, helps us to continue with our early journey. So, whenever we walk the soft sandy beach, we travel with the knowledge, that is good weather or bad, alone or with friends, God is always with us.April 18, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
When the sharp wooden edges of our cross, Digs into our weak and fragile flesh, We fall, face first onto the pavement, And are crushed onto the harsh concrete. As we lay powerless and paralyzed, Our sinful soul is pierced and exposed, By the venomous hatred flung at us, And our enemies celebrate their triumph. As our spirit sinks into the darkness, Evil forces slither in and shackle us, Assaulting us with temptations and treasures, And enticing us with promises of power. Pretending to console and sympathize, They smear us with layers of lies and malice, And with a charcoal cloak of cunning, they conceal Their campaign for the surrender of our soul. The pain they inflict upon us is acute, Crucifying our beliefs and our faith, Crippled by our heartache and despair, We cry out for assistance from our God. A brief blaze of love breaks through the night, And as a glance of grace gently falls upon us, We hear a whisper, For everyone who, Calls on the name of the Lord, will be saved.1 The tsunami tears cease, And the storm fades away, But, time slows to a stop, And pain is pushed to its limits, As the heavy door swiftly slams shut, Our eyes gradually adjust to the gloom, And we resign ourselves to endure, An agonizing and prolonged internment. We reach for our cherished Rosary beads, And between each decade of beads, We pray to our Blessed Mother Mary, Please help us see God's love for us today. Then a voice gently whispers to us, “Courage! There is a purpose for this,” So, we stumble on, praying silently, Thy Will Be Done. As the pain from our heavy cross grows, We stumble, falter and fall, yet again, But as the stone ripples the water, We see that we are not alone. And when we see Job stumbling along, Carrying his large, looming cross, We want to stop and lend him a hand, But look down and our hands are full. Our eyes meet and we share a smile, He motions for us to maintain our course, And as we continue on, we look back, And see an angel holding up his cross. Then, as the thorny scales of pride and ego, Relinquish their control of our selfish sight, Our Christ eyes look back at our cross, And we see the angel that is helping us. As we feel God's presence next to us, In thankful praise to the Lord, our God, we sing, Our favorite prayer to our loving Father, Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. 1Romans 10:13April 14, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
A glorious vision appears, conceived from stained glass memories, onto a blank sheet of white. As we prepare for an encounter with our God, we spin and weave ordinary green wool, and a tapestry of worship begins. And as we bless ourselves, we add in threads of blue baptismal water, and we are reminded of the Holy Trinity. As our diverse community gathers, in the upper room of our lives, we pray with all those who wandered the desert, and as we share the bread and wine, we journey together into a new way of being. As the flickering lights of our joy and consolation, proceed down the aisle, we add silver and gold threads. And as we sing praises to our God, we march into the future, and together we weave in the memories of the past, and the pattern endures. We sincerely admit our failings and weave in the black threads of our sins, and we earnestly beg, “Lord Have Mercy.” God hears our humble prayers, and adds in His white threads of forgiveness. As the introductory threads of our prayers come together, the congregation prepares to open their hearts and minds, to hear the Liturgy of the Word. We weave words of wisdom from the Old Testament, an ageless portrait of ancestors whose lives pattern today's trials. As we add in the rich threads from the timeless Psalm, a sacred song of praise to our Lord, our voices carry His Word into our hearts, and as we remember the first reading, we see the colors merge together into one theme. And to proclaim the gospel, bold and vibrant threads , that penetrate the thick walls of hearts torn by brokenness and pain, are woven together, as we share the truth of God's love for us. When we hear the homily, a message woven from the threads of our colorful history, it breaks open the hidden messages, that soothes our anxious hearts, with a peace that heals all wounds. And as we connect the threads of our lives, with those from our family and friends, to the threads of our vocations, we are encouraged to make Christian choices, and work together to sustain the theme of the tapestry. Using devotional colors, we weave in the good news of the Creed, and the pattern of our faith, deepens our convictions, and all the loose threads come together, as one creation of Catholic faith. As we turn to God for our needs, we weave in the needs of our Church, our community, the poor, the sick and the dying, as well as the fragile threads of wool, from all the lost sheep, with the hope that God hears all our prayers. As we weave together the yellows and browns, from the many different grains flowing in the fields of our worship, we bring our simple gifts and acknowledge the multitude of God''s gifts to us. Using the yarn of praise and thankfulness, we weave a pattern of praise from the Eucharist prayer, one of God''s love letters to His people, and we form the center of our worship. Through the Holy, Holy, we weave together the praise from the fabric of our lives. And as it melds with the memories of Christ's death, and resurrection, it creates an on-going conversion of souls, longing to follow His pattern. Suddenly, with a blaze of brilliant red, the pattern changes, the transubstantiation begins, and the bread and wine, is transformed. And as the mesmerizing light is raised, a zephyr of awe and wonder, floats wordlessly with the angels, as the mist between heaven and earth is dissolved by unconditional love. As the concomitance continues, the tapestry takes on new energy and meaning, as the paschal mystery of praise and gratitude, consent and sacrifice flows, the pattern converges into one caring Christ-like community. In a time of quiet reflection, the pattern pauses — as we commune with the Lord, inviting Him into our hearts, we pray for the wisdom and courage, to share our faith and values, with a world torn by chaos and confusion. As we bring together the initial colors, with the new rainbow of colors from our encounter with God, we weave together our diverse community, now in one mind, body and spirit, as we all go forth to love and serve the Lord. A border of benediction encompasses our prayers, bringing togetherness to our tapestry of worship. Using a simple cross stitch, a monstrance of hope, it blends together the prayers of all those who celebrate, with the presence of Christ. The glorious vision is complete, a tapestry commemorating the deep truth of our Catholic faith, our belief that Christ comes to each one of us, in the Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist.March 24, 2019 [Revised from March 31, 2007 (Volume 5)]
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
When the warriors of wealth Threaten to trample us, We take on the courage Of the poor in spirit. The poor whose faith in God, Exceeds the impatient who Traveled the desert seeking, The false gods of fortune. The poor rely on God, They forego the extra cloak And put all their confidence in, Thy Kingdom Come. And when the hounds of hunger Come howling at our door, Our faith in God's mercy Is the food that nourishes. And for those who hunger To be released from the chains, Of selfish ego and pride, We feed them with God's love. It is only when we share Our faith in God's mercy, That we find the path to, Thy Kingdom Come. And when tsunami tears flow, A raging river that Overflows its banks, and Floods the senses with pain. It is these the sorrows of loss, To cherished doors of dreams, Dreams we could never open, Or paths we could never walk. But when we relinquish them, God gently dries our tears And we smile and turn towards, Thy Kingdom Come. And when dragons breathe their fire Of hate and jealousy, Or our foes assault us, And insult and strike us. We should rejoice and sing With joyful hymns praising God, For we are on our way to, Thy Kingdom Come. When we live the Beatitudes, When we love one another, When we share with the poor, The Kingdom of God is in us.February 17, 2019 [Updated from December 16, 2018 version]
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
Without warning the storm clouds appear, Blocking the sun and dulling the senses, Like the age old war between light and dark armies, When dark wants power over the light of truth. They evoke strong emotional tsunamis, With wild, black, twisted, tornado thoughts, That stampede over bewildered neurons, Like charging epileptic elephants. We cower under the ominous skyline, And dark nightmarish clouds materialize, As our mind replays venomous vignettes, Riveting, recurring cycles of torment. Our mind races at supersonic speed, Rewriting the script over and over, Imagining new lines and responses, Wishing our brain was not so sluggish. As violent forces battle behind the mist, Our mind is abducted into the vortex, The duel between light and dark goes on, Forming a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. As the dark strives to gain domination, The bright sun breaks through the murky canopy, Enveloping us with its healing rays, Bringing with it a glimpse of peace and joy, Although the dark clouds obscure the blue sky, The sun beam loosened the grip of darkness, And we cautiously peek out the steel door, Of our self-imposed isolation bunker. Forcing our lethargic body to move, And as robotic limbs regain their flow, We begin walking, one step at a time, And stumbling awkward steps merge into miles. As our legs develop a set rhythm, Our fingers caress a smooth olive wood cross, Turning it over and over, Our frantic mind slows, We echo Father Pat Martin's prayer: Mary, please help me to see God's love for me today. And as we pray we are suspended, Gently between heaven and earth, As God's love embraces and calms us. And as the gray clouds slowly dissolve away, The glaze of gloom cracks and falls from our eyes, And as our mind is freed from its prison, Our heart thaws and our blood resumes its course. We fall to our knees in grateful prayer, Thankful that God and His Saints were there, Protecting us as the storm raged and roared, Giving us courage to endure the pain. But although the current storm has withdrawn, Other storms still lurk in the gray shadows, Armed and eager to fire the first shot, At the slightest change in the atmosphere. First, simple volleys, as the cyclones of chaos, disturb the serenity of our ordered day, or when the “processing information” neon sign, explodes throughout both the day and the night skies. The more frequent and focused our prayers, The easier it becomes to submit, And as the storms attempt to crucify us, We remember that God sent His only Son. God's love holds us and watches over us, Keeping us safe as each storm wages on, Giving us the courage and the patience, To endure every tempest that blows our way. And although our puzzle pieces never quite fit, God's plan is revealed through our strengths, To calculate complicated math functions and expressions, to compute complex computer coding and other linear thought methodologies. God's plan for each of His children is unique, And combined with the power that comes with prayer, We each have the ability to weather the storms, And unveil God's grace and unconditional love.February, 10, 2019
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path