Sunday, May 27, 2018

Friendship with God...

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"…there is a friend
who sticks closer than a brother."
Proverbs 18:24

Sometimes I go to God's house, sometimes He visits mine;
He often comes to work with me and helps me pass the time.

He's with me in the kitchen when I cook and as I scrub;
I meditate upon Him while lolling in the tub.

He keeps me company driving and when I take a walk;
God and I stroll quietly and other times, we talk.

God's there when I am shopping and watering my flowers;
He inspires my writing, in computer-weary hours.

He's in me as I minister and hears me as I pray,
lifts me up when I am downcast and helps me through the day.

He sups with me at table and He joins me in my rest.
Oh, when we are communing, they're the times I like the best.

God loves it when I worship Him and glorify His Name;
He shines His face upon me and ignites me with His flame!

I read to know God better, for He knows all about me;
fills sleepy thoughts at bedtime with His sweet tranquility.

How blessed I am to know Him! Love overflows my heart!
I count upon His faithfulness and know we'll never part.

My heart is filled with gladness every moment that I spend
with the Creator of the Universe, Holy God, my Friend.

Maude Carolan

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Pentecost Sunday

Congratulations to my grandson,
Aiden Randy Thompson,
who received the Sacrament of  Confirmation, today
at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church,
Manasquan, New Jersey.

God bless you, Aiden!

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In remembrance of Pentecost 1979—
The Upper Room Charismatic Prayer Group at the Parish Center,
St. Catherine of Bologna RC Church, Ringwood, NJ—
Father Matthew Gaskin, pastor

Here I am, Lord
at the podium in The Upper Room
reading my poems again

The Upper Room—
room of my second birth
where thirty-five years ago
after questioning Your existence
and the meaning of life
the truth of the Gospel became real to me—

Yes, it was here, in this very place
that Father Matthew delivered the prayer
for those of us who desired to be Born Again
and filled with the Holy Spirit—
a birth both spiritual and virginal
from the Seed of God alone
a prayer that changed our lives
completely and forevermore

There was no primal cry at our rebirth
but exultant cries of “Hallelujah!”
and Pentecostal utterances
No amniotic fluid
but streams of Living Water
and Second Chapter of Acts tongues of fire
that we couldn’t see with our eyes
but knew in the realm of the Spirit
were blazing above our heads

In a wonderful and mysterious way
that night and this room was reflective
of another Pentecost; another upper room
another descent of the Spirit—
somewhere in Jerusalem, 2000 years ago

We became new creations that night
like those believers of old—
burning with Light
that has not grown dim

Maude Carolan Pych

Sunday, May 13, 2018

A Mother's Day Tribute to My Mom

My Beautiful Mother

Frances Longo Walsh


Never had the opportunity--
missed the privilege
of doting upon my old mother.
Mother died
of a heart attack
at fifty-one

Watch with envy--
sweet old mothers
with rosy rouged cheeks
and charming smiles
carefully navigating
footed canes
or wheeled walkers
Dutiful daughters
accompany them
in doctor’s waiting rooms
taking their tweed coats
making small talk
about the grandchildren
and what Aunt So And So
will be serving
the church ladies for lunch
Blessed daughters
who left beds unmade
dishes in the sink
who listen attentively
to doctor’s instructions
see that Medicare
and supplementary insurances
are processed properly
who assist them
with their coats
and to their cars
stopping at pharmacies
on the way home

Maude Carolan

My mother went to be with the Lord a week before my 22nd birthday and I've missed her sweet presence in my life all these years. She was selfless and humble, a diligent help-meet to my father and simply the dearest mother one could ever have.

The above poem received an honorable mention in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest.

Happy Mother's Day
to mothers, everywhere...

God bless you all!

Sunday, May 6, 2018

Life From the Dead Sea

Thank you, Karen Lee Ramos
for hosting a delightful afternoon of poetry, today,
at the Barn Gallery, Ringwood Manor State Park.
I enjoyed reading poems from my book
and listening to all the other fine poets.

And now...another poem about the Dead Sea:

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Israel Pilgrimage—1986

There’s something mysterious
yet wondrous
about this great water body
that lies smooth and still
in the midst of utter barrenness
so salty, one can actually climb
and walk upon giant saline mushrooms
which rise up from sea bottom
at the lowest ebb on Earth

For millenniums it has taken
from the Galilee and Jordan
without giving—
refusing sustenance
to fish and flora
hoarding its rich minerals
and precious oils which intensify
in ongoing evaporation

People flock to its shores
from far continents
to bathe, buoyed
in lifeless waters that heal
They even slather their bodies
with its dark therapeutic mud
receiving restoration
from the deadest dead

One great day
the mighty arm of God
will reach down, down, down
to touch its lifeless liquidity
with miraculous rebirth
Its waters will spring to life!
Fish will thrive
Trees will bear magnificent fruit
along its lush and fertile shores

Maude Carolan