Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Devotional Message

My devotional message, "Beautiful Words" has been posted to the North Jersey Christian Writers Group (NJCWG) blog. It was presented at the opening of the October, 2015, meeting. To read it, click on: http://njcwg.blogspot.com.

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Feeding His Sheep

Photo Credit: Omayra Lopez Caruso


SHEEP’S DEN

Omayra texted me a photo she took
of Antonio, now eight—
He was on his knees, feeding a lamb
out of his hand

My home is full of sheep—
It could even be called a sheep’s den
Sometimes my grandchildren
roam from room to room
trying to count them
but they never come close
to counting them all

Sometimes the little ones draw pictures
for me of sheep grazing or of lions and lambs
which I gladly display on the refrigerator door
There’s an assortment
of whimsical woolies on the windowsill
above the kitchen sink
and various sheep are featured
on coffee mugs in the cupboard
A comical lamb sits on top of the water cooler

Plush sleepy sheep lie on all the beds
novelties dangle from doorknobs
lamps and windows
There are finely carved olive wood sheep
on the china cabinet in the living room
not to mention cozy lamb sweaters
and socks in bureau drawers
lamb pins and pendants
stashed in my jewelry box

Lambs, lambs everywhere
lambs to make us smile
lambs to remind us
we’re here to feed
the hungry sheep

Feeding His sheep—
is what I do
by sharing a verse, a poem
a little money, a meal
all for the love of my Shepherd

Feeding His sheep—
just as my grandson, Antonio
is lovingly learning to do


Maude Carolan Pych

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Pilgrims at the Sea of Galilee

Photo Credit: dailymail.co.uk


ON THE SHORE OF THE GALILEE
Israel Pilgrimage—2006

A translucent rose glow
stretches across
the heavens
like a wash
of watercolor
as the sun sets

We are standing
on the rocky shore
silhouetted against
the placid Sea
of Galilee

A dog barks
in the distance
We hear a few
chattering crows
and the lilting chirps
of a songbird
otherwise—

          silence

We are pilgrims, listening
to the meditations
of our hearts


Maude Carolan Pych

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Worship with Tambourines and Dance!

The worship dance written about in this poem took place several years ago at Beth Israel Worship Center, when it was located in Garfield, NJ. The late Frank Schiavo was a member of the congregation who was afflicted with cerebral palsy and was confined to a wheelchair. Frankie spent hours each day in intercessory prayer.


Photo Credit: estore.worshipwarriors.net

FRANKIE’S DANCE
In memory of Frank Schiavo, Jr.

In a circle
in the corner
of the sanctuary
the dancers
lifted arms and faces,
bowed reverently, rose,
offering gifts 
of praise to God.
Tintinnabulating timbrels
and tambourines,
their satin ribbons streaming,
swirled with shirts and skirts,
a kaleidoscopic rainbow.
Ineffable ecstasy
shone in countenances,
sparkled in dark, dancing eyes.

Parked at a row end
in the congregation,
Frankie sat
strapped securely
in his wheelchair,
worshipping,
his spirit whirling
in the dance.
Joy softened his face
into enthralled expressions
as praise
flowed fluently
from upturned lips.

Suddenly,
perceiving the desire
written in his radiance,
a young man whisked
his wheelchair
into the dance.
Circling, circling,
spinning, spinning,
wheeling worshipfully,
spiritually spiraling
upward, Heavenward,
an Elijah in a chariot
driven by horses,
their manes ablaze,
Frankie danced
his holy dance
before the Ever-Living God.

Maude Carolan


The above poem was originally published in "Sensations" magazine. Frankie was so pleased that this poem was published. He had a framed copy of the poem hanging over his bed until the Lord called him home.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

The Love of God...

Photo Credit: faithgateway.com









THE GOSPEL, BEFORE MY EYES

Israel Pilgrimage—1986


It happened so fast
so naturally
in Jerusalem's Cardo
while I was
in Israel
on pilgrimage
that I didn’t grasp
the profound significance
until afterward—

Double doors opened
A tall bearded man
wearing a yarmulke
entered at a leisurely pace

Moments later
the doors were pushed again
by a sobbing boy
no more than five or six
He ran in, wailing:

Abba…Abba!
Abba… Abba!

The father turned around
and swooped his child
into his arms

In an instant
the boy's tears
turned
to laughter

Maude Carolan