Under the Poetree

Divine Mercy Sunday...My favorite day of the year!

2008-03-30T04:09:00.001-07:00

Can we Take One for Jesus?...

2008-02-14T08:29:00.000-08:00

I wrote this after hearing Dr. Ray's monologue of Wed. Feb 13 2008. That can be downloaded at www.avemariaradio.net in the archives.

TAKE ONE FOR JESUS

He wasn't just critiqued but He was crucified
Jesus did only good and still He had to die
I try to follow him and claim to and yet
I've such thin skin I can't forget
A harsh word spoken by my tired spouse?
Or an unkind word heard at a friend's house?
I've become so prickly, I'm all 'needles and pins'
And to be quite honest, I don't resemble Him
He stood before his accusers, silent as a lamb
Yet I lash out a retort just as quick as I can?
When I don't get my way and my needs aren't met
I'm seldom found silent because... "I need to vent!"
Mary didn't lash out at those who lashed Her dear Son
She remained silent, too, and like Him, she was dumb
Jesus told us we're going to be hated the same
I wonder when we'll believe Him and realize His Name
Is more than a slogan on a tee shirt we wear
It means going the distance because "life isn't fair"
We're going to be hated and not given respect
But I've never been spit upon for my beliefs yet
I might receive an odd glance or some crude remarks
But nothing like the sword that pierced Mary's heart
We're too slow to forgive, muttering under our breath
I say we "take one" for Jesus, 'cause it's a far cry from death

susie melkus
02-13-08

I'm a big girl now, too...

2008-02-04T21:03:00.000-08:00

Just really "into" Dylan lately.

Simple Twist of Fate... good tune, curious video

2008-01-29T04:49:00.000-08:00

Uncommon "Cosmic" Connection

2008-01-28T06:48:00.000-08:00

Walking five days through the streets of Rome
My sore feet made me wince on each cobblestone
I was having my doubts about this new “pilgrim hobby”
When a “cosmic connection” left me stunned in the lobby

Of the Fleming Hotel, on the outskirts of town
This “divine intersection” so purely profound
Left me wide-eyed with wonder and Father G., too
This “cosmic connection” that came out of the blue

On pilgrimage to Italy, to behold our Mother,
In the lobby we stood a while and talked to each other
This “cosmic connection” left us both a bit dazed
At the Fleming Hotel, in the Mary month of May

We talked more in Assisi and at the airport in Rome
Then a quick hug goodbye and Father jetted for home
I remained one more day there, still so mystified
By this “cosmic connection,” that simply can’t be denied

Now with ardent affection, my prayers daily rise
To our “cosmic connection” beyond the blue skies
Storm heaven, Father Kevin, for your friend, Father G
Please intercede for all he needs and please… pray for me

Susie Melkus
01-20-08

The Finger of God...

2008-01-24T18:25:00.001-08:00

Pink High Tops...

2008-01-23T03:39:00.000-08:00

Okay, my life is a real Adventure in Oddities of late. Most of you wouldn't understand if I tried to explain, so I'll leave that to the one other soul out there who does, and he knows who he is.

Continuing with my story, I went to You Tube because I've had "Shelter From The Storm" on my brain for days now and was hoping to find the one from Blood on the Tracks, (Bob Dylan for anyone who might not know who I'm talking about here) my favorite version of the tune. Well, I found this movie of someone driving while the song's playing in the background, and to my shock and amazement, a ways "down the road" a pair of pink high tops appear on the dash!! I used to have a pair when I was 30, (a "capturing my lost youth" birthday present to myself) and there they are! Also, I put my feet on the dash all the time... when my husband is driving, that is, not when I drive, so rest easy, folks. This was a fun find this morning. I'm just grinning thinking about those sneakers and the "lost youth" that has suddenly resurfaced, if only in my mind. Here below is my "ode" to my long lost and apparently now famous footwear:

PINK HIGH TOP BLUES

Seems I got a bad case of high top blues

now I'm wonderin' what happened to

that favorite pair of shoes

I never thought about 'em much

'til they showed up in plain view

on this movie that a stranger made

they appear as if on cue

I miss that pair of sneakers

wonderin' where they are

guess they got their lucky break

and became movie stars

if only I would have kept them

then maybe I might have seen

my own feet appear on You Tube

right here on my computer screen

susie melkus

01-23-08

here is my left foot, which did make its debut on YOU TUBE

April Morning...

2008-01-23T03:01:00.000-08:00

awake and up before the sun
and ready to hit the road
it's time to get on outta here
I got a burden to unload
this little, blue, heavy heart of mine
feels like it could explode
I sure got a lot o' stuff done though
before the rooster crowed

a gentle breeze, rustles the leaves
fragrant with April's perfume
I glance at my watch and say to myself
I ain't leavin' here any too soon
it's three o'clock in the morning
I should be at your door around noon
got my coffee, water and Twizzlers
and an iPod chock-full of tunes

my little RAV4's hummin' along
northward bound on this interstate
thinking of you, while sipping my brew
it's been a long cold winter to wait
but the frozen winds are finally gone
I heard Spring say “hello” at the gate
even after a year, it still boggles my mind,
our "uncommon connection" of Fete *

I remember so clearly the morning we met
in the lobby of the Fleming Hotel
what a year it's been for both of us
aiming for heaven and battling hell
that's how it goes for us pilgrims
in this tall ship riding high on the swells,
but on the ocean of life, come calm or storm
with His love in our hearts all is well

Yes, with His love in our hearts all is well.

susie melkus
01-17-08

* pronounced 'fate' NOT 'feet'...so it fits, you see?

Sometimes...

2008-01-20T11:12:00.000-08:00

sometimes I pout like a little girl
sometimes I'm just plain mad
sometimes I'm lonesome or confused
and sometimes I'm really sad
sometimes I'm afraid of something
and feel so out of place
so I go to my room to be alone
lie on my bed and hide my face
but one thing I know for sure is...
I'm never far away from Your grace.
For You love me when I'm pouting
You love me when I'm mad
You love me when I'm lonesome
You love me when I'm sad
You love me when I feel afraid,
confused or out of place
You love me when I run and hide
with tears that stain my face
You're always there beside me
and You hold me close and say
"You're still the apple of my eye, dear,
so don't be afraid,
it'll be okay."

susie melkus
01-20-08

Password Blues

2008-01-10T07:06:00.000-08:00

In the space they call cyber
we create a word for our access.
This word must be like no other
but one we must always remember.
When it all began
there really was no plan.
Any old word would do
maybe even the size of your shoe.
But alas along came the hacker
who evidently knew the size of your shoe.
Make it 8 characters with numbers too,
and a cap here and there to make it strong.
Make sure that you never type wrong.
Your pet's name you used to remember
but Spike or Shep will no longer do.
What? Now it must work with your email too.
Over the space we call cyber
we scatter our words and addresses.
From site to blog to Verizon,
online banking as well as photo making.
It's hard to remember words with no reason.
but I think I've found the solution,
It's simple you see when you just rename your dog
45mkJ3_sPik9Ke_____Password Strength = Strong
Here 45mkJ3_sPik9Ke it's time for a walk
now... where's that damn leash.

Rich Melkus
01.10.08

My hubby wrote this, he who worked diligently on my blog today, that was lost... due to missing passwords and estranged email addresses, but has been found again. Thank you, honey.

A Crazy Girl Is Hard To Find...

2007-11-10T20:31:00.000-08:00

This isn't the most 'religious' song....but I happen to think it's great. Maybe I need to go to confession?

Return of a Pilgrim. . .

2007-05-27T15:28:00.001-07:00

Hi everyone,

The Roma pilgrimage was just wonderful! I'm not going to post much here, but for some reason the RECON blog was detected as possible 'spam' blog. (!?) That was very frustrating to see when i tried to post on there today.

I got a few great photos of Pope Benedict XVI in the cart before the Wed audience! Scott Hahn even thought it was like a TIME Magazine photo! That was a thrill to hear! I have to admit, I was shaking like a leaf and overcome with emotion when he went by us so closely...about 10 feet away!
Please keep checking http://revertconvert.blogspot.com for the latest and pray that this "spam stuff" just goes away so I can post my photos and thoughts on the pilgrimage.

Thanks!

susie

Had they been Catholic. . .

2007-05-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

The Herman's Hermits song, There's A Kind of Hush (All over the world) might have gone like this:

There's a kind of hush all over the world at Mass
All over the world we receive the Lord,
True food that will last...
You know what I mean
As He gives Himself to us everyday we know
He's the Truth, Life and Way to the peace that will last
And with the Saints we can pray

So listen very carefully
Go to Mass and you will see what I mean
It isn't a dream
The only sound that you will hear
Is when He whispers in your ear
"I love you" forever and ever

There's a kind of hush all over the world at Mass
All over the world you can hear the sounds of Love from above
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la

So listen very carefully
Go to Mass and you will see what I mean
It isn't a dream
The only sound that you will hear
Is when He whispers in your ear
"I love you" forever and ever

There's a kind of hush all over the world at Mass
All over the world you can hear the sound of Heaven's sweet Love
Yeah, converts fallin' in love (with The Church)
Hush, they're fallin' in love (with His Church)
Hush

To our precious child...

2007-04-21T16:14:00.000-07:00

To Our Precious Child

So courageous was one young mother

To give you birth and life

And her most heroic act of faith

Was to give you to us that night

For she knew she couldn’t care for you

In the way that would be best

We thank the Lord everyday for her choice

And pray that she’ll always be blessed

Though I didn’t carry you inside my womb

For nine months from the very start

Know this, our precious little and dear one,

You were “conceived in prayer” deep in my heart

As the Lord knit and fashioned you together

And you grew in your birth mother’s womb

Your Dad and I cried and prayed to our Lord

For a baby… just like you

Then when you came into this world

And I held you so close to my heart

It didn’t matter to me, or to us, that I’d not

Carried you for nine months from the start

Our God adopted us as His children

And with deepest joy we now adopt you

Trust that our love for you will never be less

Than if I’d carried you within my own womb

When God gave you to us, He gave us to you

And our prayer forever will be…

That you will grow in faith, find hope in His grace

And know that Love is always here...in your family

04.21.07

I wrote this as I remembered my step-sister's adopted son, Sean. This is what I believe Clarann would have written had she ever done so. I don't know for sure, maybe she did write to him something like this. But Clarann, God rest your soul. You were a great mom and a wonderful step-sister. And to all those out there who courageously gave up their babies, their sons or daughters to be adopted...GOD BLESS YOU! YOU ARE HEROES!

Happy Easter Thursday!

2007-04-12T14:46:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter Thursday!

How I love the liturgical calendar and seasons in the Catholic Church! Easter isn’t over in a day as it used to be for me. Now it’s a 50 celebration! HE IS RISEN, RISEN INDEED!

And Divine Mercy, my FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR! It has only become that this year, as I never knew before 2005 what Divine Mercy Sunday and the Chaplet were! Having finished reading the Diary of Sister (St) Faustina in Febrary, I can say that Divine Mercy Sunday should be EVERYONE’S favorite day!

Our loving, giving, magnanimous in mercy FATHER, is pouring out mercy right and left to all corners of the earth for those who will be open and receive this generous gift! Can anyone think that they don’t deserve mercy? Yes, many do think and believe that way. BUT, the good news is here…MERCY IS FLOWING and it’s waiting to be received. NO ONE IS “GOOD ENOUGH” none of us deserve mercy! But yet, our Father is pleased to bruise his Son, please with the sacrifice of his Son…for his Son to die on a cross for our redemption! It is foolish of any of us to refuse so great a love and so great a gift as DIVINE MERCY.

Let us honor our beloved Papa, JP II and “drink from the flowing fount of Mercy” this Sunday. Let us delight in the grace and mercy that will fill our souls and our hearts when we open ourselves to receive the cleansing “bath” of this glorious fountain, pouring forth from our Savior’s Heart!

DIVINE MERCY

Let no one be discouraged!
Let no one run in fear!
Let all come to drink
From the Fountain of LIFE!
Let all run to the Lord
Who is near!
Mercy is flowing toward
All broken hearts,
Wounded souls stumbling
Along on the path…
Just reach out,
Grab the hem of His garment,
To find faith, hope and Love
That will last!

04.12.07

HE IS RISEN! GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!

2007-04-08T03:45:00.000-07:00

AND PEACE TO HIS PEOPLE ON EARTH!

PAX,
susie

Good Friday Vignette...

2007-04-06T04:10:00.000-07:00

"To love the Mother of Jesus, is to take nothing from our Lord...as some might sadly believe. For to love the mother of a friend, is to love that friend very much." ~ susie

Our Lady's Passion...

The sky grew dark… John saw Jesus’ mother, Mary, begin to tremble and he reached for her, thinking she would collapse with grief. But her strong faith kept her from falling as she stood at the foot of the cross. He held her near his heart, comforting her without words, for there were no words left in him. She clung to John's arm with what little strength remained in her grasp. Fatigued from the stress of this long day, her legs and knees felt weak, as if they could no longer hold her upright.

John motioned for Mary Magdalene’s assistance and together they guided the Mother of our Lord to a nearby rock, where she could rest. Mary Magdalene remained near her side, and could only stare at the pierced and bleeding feet of her Lord. Those feet had brought words of love, forgiveness and truth to her -Truth that set her soul free from the bondage of her sin. Those feet she had kissed and bathed with her tears and dried with her hair, now were covered with blood. Her heart broke like that alabaster jar of precious perfume which she had poured onto the feet of her Lord with such relentless love. Her present grief poured out of her soul in a wail that she could not contain. She reached for Mary’s hand… the sky grew darker still.

Mary, so thankful for the love and devotion of this gentle daughter and dearest friend of Jesus, held her hand in return, as she wept and groaned for her dead Son. She wept, too, for those who, in their ignorance of His love…had crucified Him… the One who loved them so. She wept for those who had hanged Him to this gruesome tree, this cross on a hill called Golgotha. She wept for the vision that now filled her blurry eyes, burning with the sting of bitter tears. She wept for the people of all ages who refused His grace. She wept for babies who would never be born, because of 'the freedom of choice' in a world far into the future. Mary wept for the loss of innocence of children, the loss of families, and the loss of faith. She wept for wars that would continue as peoples' hearts grew steadily hard and cold and vengeful.

Mary clutched her breast and moaned, as a stabbing pain surged through her heart. The same pain she’d felt only hours before, on the bloody path leading to this hill of death. Then the immense pain had ripped through her heart and soul when she had met His deep, loving gaze - when it seemed He’d “held her in His eyes” as if to draw the last of His strength from beautiful memories they’d shared. On that path she’d watched Him staggering, carrying the heavy, rough-hewn beam across His left shoulder, which was now torn bare to the bone from its weight and large splinters. The piercing pain of this sword tore through her heart as she remembered Simeon’s prophecy, so many years ago in the Temple, when she had held Jesus in her arms on that most joyous of days. Tears dropped from her face onto the moist ground, now stained red with the purest of blood. The sky grew even darker...

Nicodemus and Joseph brought Jesus to Mary and laid Him across her lap. With aching arms she embraced his lifeless body. Her tears fell upon His hair. She touched His face with a trembling hand as she tenderly kissed His forehead - pierced and torn by thorns that had been wrapped into a “crown” and cruelly slammed onto His head. A “crown of thorns” fashioned as a final, mocking gesture of her Son, Jesus, the One and True King of Kings. But even in this darkest hour, she sensed and saw, in her mind's eye, a glimmer of light, which she could see faintly - far beyond the pain of this moment of blackness. She saw that this horror, this death so cruel, so bloody, was indeed... good. She saw that His death would bring life to countless millions, who would believe in Him and trust in His love, be revived by His mercy, and live in His grace. She saw those who would find the faith to endure to the end and persevere through trials and hardships yet unimaginable. She saw a glimpse of her Son, as if in a dream, dressed in glorious raiment, and she uttered through her sobs a "thank you" to her Lord, her God, her Savior, her Beloved Son, for allowing her to become the Mother to all of His children, since the world began.

For with her Mother's eyes, she would see her sons and daughters of every age and generation, call her blessed. She saw them run to her much like He had done, with His sorrows and joys as a boy and then as a grown man. He had come to her as a humble baby in her womb and had nursed at her breast. He had run to her when He fell and skinned His knee as a little boy and she had soothed Him with a tender smile and His favorite song, while she tended to His wound. He had found consolation in her arms on nights when sleep didn't come easily and He seemed "a million miles away." He'd found in her a home, a deep love, a trust, and a faith beyond all others, for she was Full of Grace. He had delighted in being with her all His life and had gathered the last of His courage when they had looked into each other's eyes for the last time. And another sob shook her to her core, as she and Mary Magdalene tended to His pale, limp body, preparing Him for burial.

Only moments ago, straining to speak in His last, labored, dying breath, He'd given his beloved Mother to John and John to her. She would go home with John and love him as she had loved Jesus. She would now tend to John's wounded heart, and comfort him with a love only a Mother's consolation could give. She would tell John of Jesus' love and tender mercy for years to come. Her red eyes - swollen, and overflowing once again with tears - looked at John as they lay Jesus in the tomb. John watched with most tender affection, as tears began to roll down her face, falling onto the burial cloth. As he beheld the Mother of his Lord, he thought his heart would break for love of her. He wrapped his arm around her as they left the tomb, speaking these three words softly and lovingly to the Mother of God: "Come home, Mother." Then with the devotion of a true son, he led her safely to his home, to honor and care for her until her time came to leave this earth.

It is my prayer this Easter, that we will all welcome Mary, the Mother of God, into our homes, and into our hearts, to care for her and honor her as did John. As we love the Mother Jesus gave us, we will grow in our love for Jesus, and come to know him more deeply, more intimately. For as I stated above, to love the mother of a friend, is to love that friend, very very much. “ Totus Tuus” To Jesus, through Mary.

Precious Hands of a priest . . .

2007-04-01T07:41:00.000-07:00

PRECIOUS HANDS

Through these precious hands

Of His beloved priests
My daily Bread Of Heaven,

Jesus,

Comes to me

When I eat the Flesh of
This Pascal Lamb,
The One True Lamb of God,
I receive Eternal Life
How can I be but awed?

Hands ever extending

God’s mercy and grace,

Hands that bless me every day -
All I can say is “thank you, Father,”
For your "yes" to Christ and I pray...

I pray when the dark night gathers 'round you

And exhaustion leaves you

“Tired to the bone…”
The Hand Of Christ will reach for you,
From His Heavenly Throne.

That His nail-scarred Hand will
Draw you near to his precious Sacred Heart

And you'll find the strength

to persevere,

Even alone in the dark.

May I never take you for granted, Father,
serving us so faithfully

For your precious hands

mean all the world

or rather all The LIFE

to me.

Carbs...the barbs on the wire fence of life....

2007-03-31T18:54:00.000-07:00

“The pain in my laughter and the joy in my tears”…I like that paradox. For there can’t be sorrow without joy or melancholy without laughter in this Chex Mix we call life. The ingredients are best lived, endured and enjoyed when tasted together.

Oh brother, it’s getting to me. Has 6 weeks on the Atkins diet made me suddenly crave cereal and wax poetic about it on this blog? Ah, but without milk in the house (milk has carbs..cream doesn't but milk does)…it’s a futile dream. Brightly colored bowls no longer contain those colloquial Krispies that chattered cheerfully at me every morning. Now it’s only bacon and eggs, lying flat against my boring plate, that give me sustenance. Has the overall loss of accumulated inches on my frame been worth this somewhat monotonous mealtime melancholy? YES. Therein lies the carb-free rub. There was some inner joy,a twinkle of delight experienced in seeing the actual inch loss recorded on paper, next to the inches that were noted in same file 3 months ago. I just pray when CARBS CREEP IN, as carbs are wont to do, that they’ll meet with a vigilant force of my will, and not do to me what they once did when allowed to run rampant; for I dare say, my closet can no longer contain 3 stinkin' sizes of clothes.

Storms of Life...

2007-03-27T14:41:00.000-07:00

The Storm of Life...

Jesus would you roll this heavy stone

Away from the door of my heart

And help me to pray for I’m at a loss

And I don’t know where to start

This storm that’s raging inside of me

Would you calm it for me, too?

Like you did so long ago

For that motley fishing crew

In a boat tossed on the waves of Galilee

You brought them safely to dry ground

With a gesture of your loving hand

You spoke and the winds calmed down

Grant me the courage to be still

And know that you are God

To know that everywhere I’ve ever walked

You’ve already trod

You condescended to be dressed

In the frailty of human skin

Leaving radiant glory on a vigilant quest

To win the hearts and souls of men

You poured out your life upon a cross

Stripped of every dignity

You gave your body and shed your blood

On that path of Calvary

Hung from nails driven through your hands

And your blessed, holy feet

A crown of thorns tore your scalp

As You gave your life for me

For all the world and for everyone

You died and rose again

So that all could believe and live forever

In Your Kingdom that knows no end

09.15.06

Roses...where no roses were...

2007-03-27T14:15:00.000-07:00

The Day We Smelled Roses

My friend, Denise and I
set off on our Friday pilgrimage
to see St Francis in the country
and Holy Trinity
beautiful churches built for our
beautiful God
we drove in the glory of the
golden sun, though a hot summer's day
and poured out our hearts on the way
we entered the country sanctuary
and amid the workers remodeling
we prayed for mercy for our sins
and those of the whole world
and spoke our hearts to our Lord
the noise of the workers was not going
to keep us from our prayers
though Satan tried hard to distract us
we prayed and thanked our God
it was time to leave after reading
more at the table by the doors
and we stepped out into the glorious
summer day, now blessed by our
Mother's presence in a tender way
"I smell roses!" Denise grabbed my arm
and asked in a girlish pitch of excitement-
"Susie, Do you smell roses?"
“Yes I do!” I answered like a little girl.
“ I smell roses, too!”
we looked but there were no roses
smiling, laughing, and thanking our
Mother, Mary, for blessing our prayers
and delighting us with Her scent
then with the soft summer wind,
Her fragrance was gone
we drove to Holy Trinity a few miles
down the road and visited our God
the beauty of skilled hands was all around us
and Mary continued with us, too
and we were blessed to meet another
precious mother, Betty Lou.
She told us of a statue and it's mysterious
history and before we knew it, we were
on the road to visit our Mother in the
beauty of her Assumption -
Her Assumption!
in the town of Dwight was Mary
standing tall with halo bright
and blessed us once again with
roses in the air, between angels
and on the stairs, our Mother's scent
once again made us smile and thank Her
for our day and Her heart and Her love
"I smell roses!" I exclaimed on the stairs
and we laughed with our new found joy
and left, taking the "long way" home
with drops of "holy water" falling on our
car - yet no other seemed to be touched
by this “mysterious rain”…
baptized and cleansed for our journey
home, we laughed in joy again
we shared a day that was indeed a
‘divine appointment’ for our hearts to beat
in time with the Heart of our Lord Jesus
and His beloved Mother, our Mother, Mary
so great a day forever cherished
in the hearts of two new friends.
Blest be the Lord, the God Israel
the God of Nebraska, too,
who reigns in glory waiting to
meet us with His Mother, who
waits to hold us in Her arms and
bless us with tender mercy
in the aroma of roses
and a rose to me will never be the same...
we know the rose's name, Mary-
Blessed Mary gave us Her heart
and the heart of Her Son
beating as one for all time
yes, I smell roses!
and one day Our Lady's fragrant love
will guide us to the Feet and Heart of Jesus
The Rose of Sharon - where we will forever
...smell roses

Hmm, I like that.... it works.

2007-03-27T09:53:00.001-07:00

"I'm glad my feet that roamed have found the road to Rome."

That was a line I left in a comment on Tiber Jumper's blog. I like it and I know something will develop from that line. Just wait and see.

Table of Life...

2007-03-25T17:29:00.000-07:00

Come To the Table of Life

The dinner bell rings
The candles are lit

Come to the Table of Life

Supper is ready
The Table is set

Come to the Table of Life

Your Mother is calling
All her daughters and sons

Come to the Table of Life

Receive the Eucharist
Partake with the Saints

Come to the Table of Life

Bread of Heaven is broken
Sacrifice of His love

Come to the Table of Life

True Food and True drink
Given us from above

Come to the Table of Life

Eat of His Body and
Drink of His Blood

Come to the Table of Life

Receive Life within you
And live out the Mass

Come to the Table of Life

Transformed into Jesus
We are called now to serve

Going forth from the Table of Life

03.25.07

Parody anyone? If you guess correct you win....a flashlight

2007-03-24T14:07:00.000-07:00

Risin up
Back on the road
Did my time in the pigsty

Traveled the distance, heavy sins were my load

A prodigal with a will to survive

So many times
It happens too fast
Trade your religion for vainglory
Don't lose your faith for "other food" served up fast

You must fight just to keep it alive

Got my eye on the Tiber
Where the ray of the Light

Rises up to the challenge of Her rivals
She's the Church Jesus gave us and she'll always survive

And she's watching for us down the road

'cross the Tiber

Face of disgrace
Out in the heat
I've had enough
Of stayin' hungry
Backpack of sins I will take to the street
For a wing and a prayer to survive

Got my eye on the Tiber
And the ray of pure Light
Risin' up to the challenge of Her rivals
She's the Church Jesus gave us and she's shining so bright

And she wants all of us to come Home,

'cross the Tiber

Risin' up
Out of the slop

Going Home to my Mother

I went the distance now I'm not gonna stop

A prodigal with some hope to survive

Got my eye on the Tiber
Where the Dome shines so bright

Rising up to the challenge of Her rivals
She's the Church Jesus gave us, a bright beam in the night
And she's watching for us to come Home,

'cross the Tiber

Eye on the Tiber...

What is Eye of the Tiger, rewritten as Eye on the Tiber, Alex?

Good guess Susie! You win!

I've also posted this at our RECON blog.

Lion and Lamb...

2007-03-24T11:44:00.000-07:00

Lion of Judah

Lamb of God

Roaring King

Silent sacrifice

The GREAT I AM

Lion and Lamb

susie melkus
03.24.07

Spring...

2007-03-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

A rumble of
Thunder
Rain falls
softly,
bathing robins
drenching
the ground
fecund earth
gives birth to
tender shoots
fields tinged
with green
brown of winter
fading, receding
olfactory senses
delighted by
fragrant buds
petals perfume
new growth
new life
Spring says
hello

susie melkus 03.24.07

Poem for "not-so-perfect" moms....

2007-03-23T15:01:00.000-07:00

For "not-so-perfect" Moms

All mothers' feet are made of clay

And we walk in a fallen world

Some days our tempers flare

At the "drop of a hat"

Toward our little boys and girls

We're human and we make mistakes

But our little ones are quick to forgive

What we must do is forgive ourselves

Because we're also one of God's "precious kids"

So don't expect perfection from yourself

That even God does not expect from you

When you fall, just get up and run to Him

For He's already forgiven you, too.

© susie melkus
03.22.07

Tiber Jumper....my friend, my brother in Christ...

2007-03-20T18:42:00.000-07:00

I thank God for my "brother in Christ," Russ Rentler, aka: Tiber Jumper. He's written (and rewritten 2 familiar melodies) these beautiful beautiful songs. He's a 'returnee' a "revert" to the Catholic Church. He's a good friend, and I hope to collaborate with him on another song. I wrote a few verses to "ROME SWEET ROME" as heard here.

Take a listen. As I like to say, it's Catholic apologetics in song. A beautiful way to witness to the TRUTH, the FULLNESS of TRUTH, found in the Church Jesus established on Earth, the Catholic Church.

By the way, the Church Jesus founded isn't holy because of its members, it's Holy because of it's Founder.

susie

Fountain of Life...

2007-03-19T17:08:00.000-07:00

Come drink from the fountain of life, for it will never run dry.

Shetland Sheepdogs... Ah, the blessed countryside

2007-03-19T16:55:00.000-07:00

A lonely road in England...and Shelties lead the way.

For my friend, Kat...

2007-03-19T15:53:00.000-07:00

Kat knows me more than most people...and I've never met her in person. She and I are bosom friends, soul sistas, soul twins.

BUMPY RIDE

It's been a bumpy ride, this last year...
Plus a decade or two for a friend across the Pond
A bumpy ride on the roller coaster from Hell.
But God is always faithful, even when we are not.
His arm is reaching toward us and always extending
A FLOOD OF MERCY. She is on her way...today,
Rest my friend and know that God is near, as near
As your next breath, your next heartbeat.
When you exhale He is there, when you inhale,
He is there. In every breath you take, and every
Step you make across a cold and barren land,
Reach out for His LOVE-scarred Hand.
You will soar higher than the clouds,
You will fly with eagles and find shelter in His wings.
As in a cleft of a rocky cliff...nestle there and let Him
Love you, lead you, guard and keep you,
My dearest bosom friend.
With Kathy A. who's one to pray, and speaks
Words of love and words so wise, you're in her heart
And mine as well, if tears flow like rivers from your eyes.
I'm here praying for you, too, and know you'll find a way,
For He is the Way, the Truth and Life and He will see
You through this long goodbye and this long, dark night.

SJM
03.19.07

The Long Goodbye...

2007-03-19T15:19:00.000-07:00

This is a poem my dear friend, Kat wrote. I loved it so much, I wanted to post it on my blog and she was kind enough to let me. enjoy. ~ susie

THE LONG GOODBYE

From whence comes tender sweet relief

Divided hearts beating blood stained grief

THE LONG GOODBYE SLOWLY UNFOLDS

Painful years of threats and tears

Lacking arms to quench the fears

THE LONG GOODBYE MUST HIT THE ROAD

Blaming each other for sorrows untold

My forgiveness with grace turning cold

THE LONG GOODBYE IS NOW A LOAD

Half my fault i take the blame

I naively joined in the game

THE LONG GOODBYE IS GROWING OLD

Fire of passion started the glow

All that's left are ashes to blow

THE LONG GOODBYE UNFOLDS

Keeping sparkle in heart and soul

Never giving in must be my goal

THE LONG GOODBYE MUST END

Take back what bad love stole

JMJK 2007

Offering....

2007-03-17T16:26:00.000-07:00

I offer you my everything
My dirty hands and heart
Take from me my offering
And let the healing start
Wash me clean and renew in me
A faithful trusting soul
You're my God, my Lord, my King
The One who makes me whole

Good Friday haiku...

2007-03-17T16:01:00.000-07:00

Mother's eyes meet His
Bloody path to Calvary
Weight of sins kill Son

Valley of Tears...

2007-03-17T14:46:00.000-07:00

Valley of Tears

Down in the valley, this valley so low
Bend your ear toward us and let us know
You're Our loving Mother, so gentle and dear
Like children we trust you, to dry every tear

The trials and temptations that we daily face
Grow dimmer around us, when we gaze on your face
The radiance of angels, just cannot compare
To your lovely countenance, so pure and so fair

Down in the valley, this valley of tears
The love of Our Lady, keeps us safe from all fears
Wrapped in her mantle, we're kept safe and warm
She leads us to Jesus, so He can transform…

Us into His image, the likeness of Him
To bring light into this world darkened by sin
Like roses in winter, we gather ‘round you
Our sweet, tender Mother, Lovely Lady in blue

Down in the valley, this valley so low
Bend your ear toward us and let us know
Our Lady, Our Mother, so gentle and dear
Your children are safe when we know you’re near

© susie melkus

03.01.07

Pastel God...

2007-03-06T06:33:00.000-08:00

Pastel God

We’ve painted God a soft pastel

To blend with our décor

His eyes no longer burn with fire

We don’t fear Him anymore

No more talk of blood-red sin

No more talk of hell

No fear of God resides in us

His commandments we dispel

The bloody path to Calvary

We’ve chosen to ignore

Material gain we gladly embrace

While our crosses remain on the floor

Allured by New Age philosophies

Which exalt and esteem only self

We leave the Truth for hollow lies

While His Word gathers dust on the shelf

The promises of God are packaged

And sold, like charms in a pastel box

We quote them proudly and they tickle us pink

While we blindly forget what they cost

In believing only part of the Truth

What we fail to fully perceive

Is the dangerous trade, we have just made

And in the end it’s a lie we believe

We’ve painted God a soft pastel

To blend with our décor

His eyes no longer burn with fire

We don’t fear Him anymore

05.06.06

The Wonder of A Child...

2007-03-05T15:12:00.000-08:00

The Wonder of a Child

Keep the wonder of a child
Even as you grow
Never let it fade away
Never let it go
For we all must be like children
If we're going to enter in
To the Kingdom God's created
To live forever more with Him

© Susie Melkus
03.05.07

What an amazing blog I have just discovered!

2007-03-04T05:07:00.000-08:00

The Lost Fort will be added to my link list. Take a peek if you're fond of medieval history, and historical fiction. Gabriele, your blog is sublime!

susie

A Doris Day Favorite....rewritten just a bit...

2007-03-04T05:04:00.000-08:00

Sacramental Journey

Gonna take a Sacramental Journey,
Gonna set my heart at ease.
Gonna make a Sacramental Journey,
To confess my iniquities

Got my bag of sins and reservations,
And I know I can't afford.
To neglect sweet reconciliation
And absolution from the Lord

Seven...seven sacraments are given
To help me on my way to heaven,
And keep me on the straight, and narrow track
That takes me back.

Never thought my heart could be so yearny.
Why did I decide to roam?
Gotta take that Sacramental Journey,
Sacramental Journey Home.
Sacramental Journey

susie melkus
03.03.07

A Round for the kidlets...

2007-02-28T16:26:00.000-08:00

Row Row Row your Boat
Across the Tiber Home
Merrily Merrily
Merrily Merrily
to the Dome in Rome

Storm over Omaha...

2007-02-28T04:34:00.000-08:00

While being driven around town last June, by our son, "Jeeves" aka: Justin, in a Caddie he rented, we were witness to this immense storm that descended upon Omaha with a downpour and clatter! There was also a ~DOUBLE~ rainbow that stretched about 12 miles from near the Dairy Queen where we had stopped for some cones. The other end of it spread South along I-80 reaching directly out to the Holy Family Shrine! It was a spectacular summer show!

So yes, there IS a "pot of gold" at the end of the rainbow...the "golden tabernacle" of Our Lord, where Jesus dwells on the prairie, between Lincoln and Omaha.

There is the Treasure of my heart's desire
The Pearl of Great Price, shining like fire!
More precious than silver and worth more than gold
The great wonder of God - awesome to behold!

susie melkus
03.06.07

My Valentine from Jesus...

2007-02-27T06:07:00.000-08:00

I found the Sacred Heart of Jesus as I hiked along the trail...click on picture to enlarge

Following the Rainbow...

2007-02-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

Stardust Twins Road Trip

Driving north from Thedford
across the Nebraska plain
traveling with a friend
of mine when it began to rain
we saw this rainbow on our way
to Smith Falls near Valentine
we made it to the campground
just in the nick of time
before the black of night did
fall making it hard to see
by flashlight beam we pitched
the tent my stardust twin and me
It was August of 2004 when
we made our road trip west and
I think we'll take another one
to the place I love the best
The sand hills of Nebraska
and the prairie thunderstorms
delight and thrill my heart
as I watch the changing forms
of towering tall thunderheads
and the dancing prairie grass
I only know when I'm out there
My heart is home at last.

susie melkus
02.26.07
©

By Miss Dickinson...

2007-02-25T15:29:00.000-08:00

JUST so, Jesus raps—He does not weary—
Last at the knocker and first at the bell,
Then on divinest tiptoe standing
Might He out-spy the lady’s soul.
When He retires, chilled and weary— 5
It will be ample time for me;
Patient, upon the steps, until then—
Heart, I am knocking low at Thee!

Emily Dickinson
1830-1886

2007-02-25T14:50:00.000-08:00

"My hair is bold like the chestnut burr;
and my eyes, like the sherry in the
glass that the guest leaves."

Emily
Dickinson

Thank You, Emily Dickinson

Emily, fair Emily
you were such a
talent, such a gift
a fragile flower blowing
alone in the wind
how do we thank one
so exquisitely creative
with words? I know…
We find you
and we read you
your heart laid bare
before the world
on paper sometimes
torn or curled at the
edges as was your
life, frayed at ends
only known in your soul
by you and by God
and we pray for you
that you keep on
inspiring us, and
wake up the young
to the beauty all
around them that is
found on a yellowed
page of a well-read
book and see the
heart and soul among
words crafted with such
tender eloquence that
make me feel you are
here with me when I
read your thoughts
and wonder if that
might be you at the
door of my heart's parlor?

Susie Melkus
02.25.07 ©

I love it when I come across a genius...

2007-02-25T14:09:00.001-08:00

Spirit Stilled

Stilled by quiet ripples, fall
shades loose leaves with
stolen colored bubbles; risen
from the wet, stony stream.

Beautiful bugs adorn calm voids
near the shore, unaware
in God's pure web of Justice,
that few lives are reclaimed.

The low, distant canopy closes
ahead, dark in moist fragrance,
provided by God we appreciate
in sense that hides the spirit.

When grabbed by all sensual peace
will flesh lead our spirit, still
so warmly secure from thieves
revealed in the spirit sense.

[Mark Johnson, copyright 1997]

Please go to read more of Mark's poetry at the link above.

This reminds me of the "wolves in sheeps' clothing" that have made their way in to Christendom with New Age philosophies and Eastern religious thought. Dangerous doctrines of men/women lurk about ready to be "melded" into Christianity, seeking only the ruin of souls. That's why we pray to St Michael the Archangel to guard us from these false "christs" with their many tempting, feel-good practices and techniques. Don't be duped, be wise, watchful, sober, vigilant against the snares of the enemy, for he is crafty, sly, cunning and much smarter than we think. He was LUCIFER, after all, the Brightest, wisest of angels...and PRIDE sent him to his destruction. We're too presumptuous to think we won't meet the same fate if we wander down "enlightened paths" that lead not to GOD, but Hell.

susie

Eyes of Mercy - Face of Love...

2007-02-25T12:42:00.000-08:00

All For You

Can you resist so great a Love as this
Can you keep on running away from arms
That reach out for you in your darkness
The darkness that seems to grip you in
A icy cold grasp holding you in its cage,
You're able to see the light, but too
Afraid to let go of the steely bars you've
Grown accustom to clinging to so tightly
You need not fear so great a Love as His
For He came not to condemn you, but to
Set you free from all things that bind
You to a lesser life of slavery
For He paid the ultimate price, shedding
Blood so pure, untainted by sin,poured out
For you to know within your soul, your mind
And your heart forever the Divine Mercy
Of a God, who became like you, and who loves
You with a relentless passion, unyielding
As the grave and stronger than death
The death that holds you now
And keeps you in fear and shivering in
Darkness where you've remained for so long
So let go, give up, don't hide any longer
And know that no man or woman is ever as tall
As when they fall to their knees at His feet,
To be lifted up to His breast, near His heart
Higher into the realm of purest Love, where
Only light, and warmth, and grace abound
To be held forever near that heart that beats
Only for you, only for you...all...for...you

susie melkus
02.25.07
©

Out my window this morning....

2007-02-25T12:23:00.000-08:00

This was my view sitting here at 3:00 a.m. at the computer (yeah, I'm a morning person.) I took this w/out the flash, camera right against the window pane and I love the way it turned out! It's sepia on its own, not enhanced at all. We had a bizarre winter storm here in Omaha over the night, with rain, snow, hail,thunder and lightning. I love weird weather and there's no better place for it than Nebraska. Everything you've ever heard about the weather here is true. And now it's sunny, and melting...and now it's cloudy...but I'm confident it will be sunny or balmy tomorrow for a few minutes before the next arctic blast freezes the foam on a mug o' beer.

The Dark Night

2007-02-25T11:52:00.000-08:00

St John of the Cross
Songs of the soul that rejoices in having reached the high state of perfection, which is union with God, by the path of spiritual negation.

1. One dark night,
fired with love's urgent longings
- ah, the sheer grace! -
I went out unseen,
my house being now all stilled.

2. In darkness, and secure,
by the secret ladder, disguised,
- ah, the sheer grace! -
in darkness and concealment,
my house being now all stilled.

3. On that glad night
in secret, for no one saw me,
nor did I look at anything
with no other light or guide
than the one that burned in my heart.

4. This guided me
more surely than the light of noon
to where he was awaiting me
- him I knew so well -
there in a place where no one appeared.

5. O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united
the Lover with his beloved,
transforming the beloved in her Lover.

6. Upon my flowering breast,
which I kept wholly for him alone,
there he lay sleeping,
and I caressing him
there in a breeze from the fanning cedars.

7. When the breeze blew from the turret,
as I parted his hair,
it wounded my neck
with its gentle hand,
suspending all my senses.

8. I abandoned and forgot myself,
laying my face on my Beloved;
all things ceased; I went out from myself,
leaving my cares
forgotten among the lilies.

My sketch of St. Therese...The Little Flower

2007-02-25T09:49:00.000-08:00

Saint Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face is the Patron Saint of this blog. She was a beautiful, and prodigious child, who grew up in a very devout home under the guidance of devoted parents. She entered the Carmel at 15 years of age and suffered extreme pain and difficulty due to tuberculosis. She died at the tender age of 24. St. Therese was without any consolations from God, no 'feeling of his nearness' for many weeks or months before her death. I can't stress enough here what a blessing her life memoirs are and suggest you read a copy of "Story of a Soul." You don't have to be Catholic to find her a true friend. The one thing about being Catholic and our love for saints is this: They aren't dead and gone. We believe they only changed locales, for isn't that what we do when we "die in Christ?" They are only across a very thin veil, praying for us and cheering us on, to make it to the finish line in this 'race' for our goal, which is Christ and His Heaven. I love being able to pray to all my Saints. They're the friends of Jesus who've paved the way for us with prayer and with their own blood as they died for the Faith. We owe them a great deal, and there's no better way to honor Jesus than to honor his friends. That goes for his Mother, too, but that's another post.

Suffice it to say, I was always told that praying is only conversation, so when I pray to a Saint, I'm not "worshiping" the saint. That goes for Mary too. Catholics don't worship them, they 'venerate them. There's a HUGE difference. I simply never knew the beauty of this "communion of saints" and it's been a joy to learn from those who actually know and to put my own fears about this "curious Catholic thing" to rest. "To die is gain" so said St. Paul. The spiritual world is not like our own, and we can't see these Saints and angels all around us, but St. John did in his Revelation. His description of a "great cloud of witnesses" wasn't just the angels around the Throne of God, it was ALL who have died in Christ, Christians. We don't then "pray to the dead" as I've heard from faulty and misguided sources, so let that misconception go, if indeed you've got it. I once did, but happily it's a faded memory now.

The 'dead' aren't in Heaven. In fact, they're more alive than we are on this earth, for they're beholding the beatific vision of our Lord and King, Jesus Christ! I'm not there yet and I don't know anyone walking on this earth who is also there in Heaven. Who then is better equipped to pray for us here? Only our friends? We're all bedraggled sinners, struggling everyday to grow in holiness, to even generate a prayer life, to muster up 5 minutes to read the bible. However, the Saints who are there WITH CHRIST in glory seem quite able and capable and worthy of our prayers, as we also ask our friends and family. I say, if we can ask each other for prayers, then why not include the WHOLE FAMILY OF GOD, here AND in his resplendent glory?

Whoops! The soapbox has been pulled out from under me and I've landed on my rear. Guess I'll get on out of here and move on to other things, other thoughts.

Please, READ about St. Therese and the rest of these precious, faithful souls. They're our Big Sisters and Brothers, they're not "idols."

A bump on a blog...

2007-02-25T06:15:00.000-08:00

Sitting here like a bump on a blog
typing and yes, sometimes cussing
I must admit that I pray to quit
the cussing that is not blogging
at least I was wise enough not to
try to believe, that I could ever
learn how to clog
for I've not one graceful bone
my feet at times feel like stone
so here I'll sit like a bump on my blog.

susie melkus
02.25.07
©

In Dew Time...

2007-02-25T00:23:00.001-08:00

Little Pansy

Fragile little flower,
Drooping as if the weight
Of morning's dew
Would bend her
To the ground forever,
Was released of
Her burden when
The sun rose
Higher in the sky
As Summer's golden heat
Reclaimed the crystal droplet
Into the warmth of day.
Yawning, Pansy stretched
Upward to wink at a cloud
And greeted a buzzing visitor.

susie melkus
02.22.04
©

A simple exegesis...

2007-02-25T00:07:00.000-08:00

The Name of our Lord, Jesus
Is carried on gentle breezes
Blowing softly just to please us
The Truth it is that frees us
Blessed be the Name of Jesus

Susie Melkus
02.25.07
©

When a friend I need, she's one indeed...

2007-02-24T23:01:00.000-08:00

A Friend Is She

I have a friend who's suffered much
Through many a long dark night
And countless days have come and gone
That for her, were far from bright
She's persevered through every trial
She has ever had to face
She is a friend who wears smile and
Welcomes all with grace
The love of God shines bright in her eyes
Though they sometimes wince in pain
Grateful am I for a friend like Peg
A bright star shining in the rain

susie melkus
02.25.07
©

A little bird shall lead them...

2007-02-24T14:36:00.000-08:00

Sparrow At the Window

While praying yesterday,
For babies bound to die
I noticed a tiny sparrow,
Chirping as if to cry,
"Please don't kill your babies!"
While flapping frantically its wings
"Give them life! Let them live!
For they have songs to sing"
This sparrow who will only live,
A short while on this earth,
Seemed to know and seemed to pray
For these mothers to give birth
To the little babes inside them,
Whom God has called and knows by name,
This little sparrow at the window,
Chirping at the window pane
Is heard by God as we are,
And our prayers are not in vain.

Susie Melkus
02.07
©

for anyone who's had an abortion or has helped someone to get an abortion, don't despair, there is HELP and HOPE ...here

Litany of Humility...

2007-02-24T14:15:00.000-08:00

I have posted this because it's a favorite prayer of mine. I pray it almost daily at Mass. I need to grow in this virtue most...because in humility, all the other virtues find their fecund soil and take root, growing strong and bountiful throughout our lives. ~ susie

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart,
Hear me.

From the desire of being esteemed,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being loved,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being extolled,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being honored,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being praised,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being preferred to others,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being consulted,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being approved,
Deliver me, O Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being despised,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of suffering rebukes,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being calumniated,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being forgotten,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being ridiculed,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being wronged,
Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the fear of being suspected,
Deliver me, O Jesus.

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be esteemed more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I go unnoticed,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be preferred to me in everything,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may become holier than I,
provided that I may become as holy as I should,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

My "William Blake" attempt...

2007-02-24T13:36:00.000-08:00

Sword of Truth

He didn’t come to bring peace but a sword
A sword?
A simple question pierces my mind and heart
Making me wince
I don’t like it so I ignore it
I trudge around blindly
In a false-peace fog in this world
Hurting profoundly behind a smiling mask
I sometimes think I’ve fooled myself
Into believing I’m “okay”
Then the long blade confronts me
Do I let the stinging steel cut into my diseased heart?
Or do I keep walking in pain?
I tire of these silly questions
I look at the One holding the sword
He sees right through me, to my core
I relent, sick, afraid and alone
I yeld to the sword held in the nail-scarred hand
Of the victorious warrior Prince of Peace
Prince of Peace?
This is Peace?
If this is peace, I don’t want it
I scream angrily, but it’s too late
I cease the struggle and fall limply
On the altar with no more strength to fight or stand
The surgery has begun and without anesthesia
Then amazingly in the blink of an eye
I see clearly and understand what before never made sense
The pain I’d known is but a memory
Pain was rejecting the Truth to face myself and my own sin
I know for the first time what peace is
I know what peace is not
Yes the sword of Truth cuts deep into darkened hearts
Some hearts retreat in fear from its blinding, gleaming blade
While some hearts welcome it
But every heart will have to face it just
As every knee will one day bend before this Warrior
Who has fought and defeated all powers of Hell on our behalf
I believe only divine dissection can bring
Healing and true peace
The sword isn’t wielded merely for the twisted
Pleasure of some mad, vengeful, angry God but
It’s held in the capable, loving, wounded hands of his Son
The Great Physician
The Sword of Truth cuts to reveal the
Despised, rejected, cursed One, bloodied
By my sins and iniquities and those of all the world
Aquainted with deepest sorrow to a depth unknown to man
He bore all my sins and those of the whole world
On his bloody, raw shoulders, torn by the weight of
A heavy, rough, wooden beam
For a most penetrating and profound love willing to die
for communion with sinners, in need of healing and
Longing to pour out mercy and grace to fallen hateful creatures
He continues to step and fall on a path that common criminals
Walked to meet their deaths
That same two-edged sword is pointed at every heart today
Asking with deepest love the most probing question
The same question Love asked of Peter over two thousand years ago...

Who do you say that I am?

Susie Melkus
02.25.04
©
Ash Wednesday 2004 (When the Passion of the Christ opened)
It’s not Mel Gibson people hate. It’s Truth. Ironically, it’s the pain of Truth that sets us free from our pain, if we aren’t too proud to believe. I know from being on this planet 49 years, pride hurts more than Truth does.

Windows of the soul....

2007-02-24T13:30:00.000-08:00

Sacramental Eyes...

sacramental eyes are needed
to see Christ in the priest
who sits across from me and
hears my confession and who
then absolves me of my sins

sacramental eyes are needed
to see that the wine and bread
are no longer wine and bread
but the very body, blood, soul
and divinity of Christ

sacramental eyes see that when
all hope is gone, all hope is
only a breath away - escaping in
an urgent gasp of a prayer that
only God the Father understands.

sacramental eyes are the eyes of
faith that see hope and find love
in the most obscure places and in
the worst of trials or sufferings
because the Eyes of Christ saw first

susie melkus
02.23.07
©

The big chill...

2007-02-24T13:24:00.000-08:00

Frozen World

Rain spattering on the sidewalk
An empty soda can rolls and clanks
Against the wet pavement,
Moved by a cold, curling finger of wind
To the other side of the street,
Where it becomes inert at the curb,
Its sporadic dance is over.
Will it now be washed away
Into the sewer if these rains don't cease?
The last of lifeless leaves, dangle precariously
From a tree made bare in preparation
To be "fitted and dressed"
By winter snows.
Its branches stark, sparse, prickly
Reaching vainly upward,
So black against a pale, gray sky
Like ebony, skeletal hands, scratching
Frantically in the air, as if
Giving up "the ghost" of life
They knew only weeks before.
When arrayed in summer's green,
They held homes built by various birds
That have since flown away,
Departing for their "vacation nests"
In balmy, tropical destinations.
Those same branches,
Bedecked in brilliant oranges and reds,
That were so gloriously resplendent
Against a crisp, brilliant blue Autumn sky
Now hold only a few brown,
Withered leaves, clinging feebly
In futile desperation
To those dark, long, black, damp fingers
As if waving a sad and lonely goodbye
To a cruel, gray world.
As a brutal, biting bone-aching chill
Begins to seep through my
Too few layers of clothes,
My heart pierced and shattered
By news I never thought I'd hear.
I shiver,
Feeling more alone and afraid than ever.
No one knows the pain that has
Stabbed my heart,
The near suffocation of shock,
Making it so laborious,
So painful to breathe.
Gasping out a forlorn prayer,
From lips long ago
Turned blue from the cold.
On this face where frozen tears
Fall silently and mingle with the rain
That my friend,
Would be the world everyday -
A perpetual "shadowlands"
Of desolation gray -
Though not nearly as lonely,
As desolate, as lifeless, as cold,
As monotone, as painful, or as chilling
As the world without...

The Eucharist.

susie melkus
02.18.07
©

Got Wine?

2007-02-24T08:58:00.000-08:00

The Catholic Church does.... for Jesus turned water into wine at the Wedding feast at Cana. He didn't turn water into grape juice. Really...He didn't. For how can you 'get merry' on simple juice? What would constitute the "best juice" as opposed to a lesser quality....? Bread and wine. That's the way God planned it and that's the way it should be. I'm not trying to 'start an issue' here, but come on ... when was the last wedding you went to serving Welch's?

Unsung Heroes

2007-02-24T08:51:00.001-08:00

Unsung Heroes

they're everywhere around us

doing most heroic things

like staying in a loveless marriage

when they could just "spread their wings"

maybe caring for a sick parent

or a child too ill to speak

not seeking any credit

just doing "the next thing"

not requesting recognition

or anyone's applause

they're too busy being heroes

and helping "just because"

the sports stars making millions

while playing games these days

and self-absorbed celebrities

most often steal their praise

but unsung heroes just don't care

Go where you're fed?...

2007-02-24T08:47:00.000-08:00

Fed By the Bread of Life

I'm not fed by the music or the songs we sing
I'm not fed by the videos shown on the screen
I'm not fed by the eloquence of a homily

I'm fed at the Eucharistic offering
I'm fed by the Bread of Life broken for me
I'm fed by Jesus my Lord and King

His body, blood, soul and divinity is
True food and drink and Life for me
It's why He came and why He died
On nothing less will my soul be satisfied

Susie Melkus
10.02.05
©

Ragamuffin Memory... we miss you, Rich...

2007-02-24T08:45:00.000-08:00

Ragamuffin Memory

He walked onto the stage
Of an Omaha church
In faded blue jeans
And an old flannel shirt
His smile lit the place as
He said "hello"
I was glad to be there
That night for the show
What I heard next
I'd been longing to find
A word of grace spoken
He was one-of-a-kind
Heaven's angels were singing
Through this one lone voice
And I knew Someone Higher
Played a part in my choice
To go hear a singer I didn't know
Yet I was glad to be there
That night for the show
As a dulcimer chimed
And the music grew loud
A holy hush filled the room
And grace touched the crowd
I knew then that this was
More than a show
And I'll always thank God
Who allowed me to go
To hear you sing
From God's heart, Rich,
And this much I know
You showed Jesus to us
And never put on a "show"

© susie melkus
08.28.99
Dedicated to the "ragamuffin memory" of Richard Wayne Mullins

For George...the quiet Beatle...

2007-02-24T08:44:00.001-08:00

A Guitar Gently Weeping

there's a guitar gently weeping
with the news we heard today
a guitar that won't have gentle hands
holding it to play a haunting melody
with tender lyrics sung
this guitar has lost it's master
the "quiet one" is gone
but he's playing a new song
in heaven's hall tonight
and Jesus is all ears
as He listens with delight
He welcomes home this brother
who searched long and hard for God
and now has found his resting place
play on, George, play on.

susie melkus
11. 30.2001
©

It's like this...

2007-02-24T08:43:00.001-08:00

It's...

it's the flicker of our flames

it's the sorrow of our soul

it's giving Him the reins

it's relinquishing control

it's the moon rising high

it's the gentle fall of rain

it's stars that fill the sky

it's the joy amidst the pain

it's the thunder in the distance

it's the wind howling wild

it's the flower's smile to Heaven

it's the laughter of a child

it's the antics of a my dog

it's the smell of new-mown grass

it's glowing embers of a log

it's the wine poured in my glass

it's the songs i've yet to hear

it's the books upon the shelf

it's the music in my heart

it's the dying to my self

it's the way of weary pilgrims

it's the path beyond the hill

it's the narrow gate of holiness

it's the small voice ever still.

it's the seasons as they change

it's the rivers flowing free

it's the snow across the plains

it's the mountains and the sea

it's the Life found in our Father

it's the Son who sets us free

it's the Holy Spirit's comfort

it's all His Love for you and me.

susie melkus

02-06-05

Be Not Afraid...

2007-02-24T08:41:00.000-08:00

Be Not Afraid

The god d' jour may be a new car,
more money, a bigger house,
a new mate, a material-palooza of
consumerism run amok
with fleeting "things"
that in and of themselves
can never satisfy
our aching souls,
the god d' jour never waits
he's impatient and intrusive
and demands attention and your life...
from a darkened and perverted love
he lustfully leers at you and beguiles you
while the true God
the light of God is inside each of us
if we've allowed him to be born in our hearts
waits patiently for our call
for just a breath of a prayer
never imposing upon us
but yet constantly wooing our hearts
to his open arms, his fattened calf,
new and luxurious garments
he's fashioned himself and desires
to wrap around us
To kiss our prodigal faces with so many kisses
hundreds of kisses to welcome us home
and to embrace us through the long night
and into the glorious "forever day"
whispering these words in our ears
with such great love:
"Be not afraid!"

susie melkus
01.16.06
©

Dont sit under the Poetree...

2007-02-24T08:34:00.000-08:00

"Don't sit under the Poetree
with anyone else but me
with anyone else but me
with anyone else but me

Don't sit under the Poetree
with anyone else but me"

Said the Lover of my soul to me.
Jesus, my beloved, is he.

susie melkus
02.24.07