Pre-Dawn Memories on Halloween
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I spend evening under a blackening sky.
Lit by a brown dwarf star.
Our Father above every heaven. Over land & sea.
How alluring, comforting, dappled, & vast God’s created Truth.
Why do I tremble in moonlight, reverie startled by visions?
Infinite horizon. Behind rising ocean. Behind sway of cattails.
Melting iceberg. Frightening forecast. Fear of fragment. Half-lit murk.
Plastic-colonized water. Gargoyle-inhabited. Glow of three-eyed tuna.
Fallen acorn, still green. Blood of abortion. For almost any reason.
God’s Only Begotten, do you hear my cry?
Distant skyscrapers. Clouds over stars. Bermuda grass.
Creeping shadows. Hellish revelations.
City-imprisoned. Pigeons flutter. Black and white poop falls.
Ringing bell. Foggy air. Bell in church tower. Flickering candles.
Is that the moon over Nightingale Hill?
Fire-filled sky. Thunder booms. Lightning flashes.
Satan’s temptation. Wrestle with evil. Guilty as Adam. Guilty as Eve.
Lifted chalice. Choirs of Angels. Eucharistic Miracle. Jesus is here.
God will rule His world. Only He can save us.
Why entertain scruples? Battle guilt where no sin abides?
Pray. Pray. Pray…. Prayer is a candle. A candle guides prayer.
Smoke curls upward. Glowing candles, never enough.
No, never enough burning candles. Bring a blowtorch. Light them all.
Kneel. Pray. Pray for others. Pray for mercy. Pray for the return of Jesus.
Perfection? Fear? Losing that which I never had?
Holy Mother. Assumed beyond God’s sky. Seated to your Son’s right in Glory.
Pray to my Grace-giver. Steadfast Lord. Author of Faith.
Pray to my Savior. My Lord. My only source of mercy & grace & power.
Hapless and hopeless is every riddle—without Him.
Life as a narrative? A puzzle? A game? Jesus, did you call my name?
I’m falling in love with my Maker. And with His Mother. Courting His Spirit.
Living Catholic. Confession & Penance. Consuming His Real Presence.
Faith grows to a steadfast burn. Hope glows brighter than a flaring log.
Love’s proof is condign action. True religion is feeding God’s sheep.
If I fight onward & upward, can I become a saint?
A former English teacher, Helen Losse is the author of ten collections of poetry, including A Flower More Enduring (Main Street Rag, 2021). Her poems have been anthologized in Literary Trails of the North Carolina Piedmont, The Southern Poetry Anthology, Volume VII: North Carolina, and Kakalak 2014, nominated for a Pushcart Prize and for a Best of the Net award. She is Poetry Editor Emeritus for The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature and a former Associate Poetry Editor for Kentucky Review. She is married and has two grown sons. A Christian her entire life, Helen entered the Catholic Church on Holy Saturday in 2015 to grow closer to Jesus.
Social Media links:
Blog: Windows Toward the World https://helenl.wordpress.com/
FB: https: https://www.facebook.com/HelenLosse/
MSR Bookstore: https://mainstreetragbookstore.com/product-tag/helen-losse/
