Memories of bridal veils and sharp edged crinolines
biting the legs, seated and held still in quiet pews,
hands tight on rosary beads, Grandma’s gifted pearls, twisted,
turning, clacking, in anxious prayer.
Feet planted on kneelers already down
to hold aloft tiny feet in lace-edged socks
in white leather shoes with silver buckles.
Seldom seen relatives from far and near appear
to grace the day so full of grace it overflows
until the urge to flee such attention lightens the air
and breath seems a solemn plea to rise and go.
As my memories do because there he sits,
solemn and silent, and ready as I am never,
with a strength and wisdom so rare
it settles the soul and stiffens the mind
reminding us of the moment soon to arrive
when Grace itself takes form in the Host,
a thought so alive we all rise to process up the aisle
all smiles of delight light us inside and out
as the Host melts on the tongue and our hearts shout
God is alive! As am I. As am I!
Unconditional love exists in this moment of bliss,
in communion with all others, our sisters and brothers
within a family, a church, a neighborhood block,
a city, a nation, an entire world
of people to love and bring inside hearts opened wide.
No human assessment of follies,
no judgement of errors done and undone,
no constant surveillance of sins yet assessed.
On this day
with this child
one only feels blessed.
annarino writes 