Tuesday, March 13, 2012


De-consecrating St. Columban

A last Mass, a chord to punctuate the
end of the hymn, Eucharist removed, grim
organ harvest, body cooling, rendered a sad

empty vessel, an afterthought really
to the messy celebration of the
lives and deaths, beginnings and ends, joy and

pain, the song and dance, the sound of many
small bells rung together, droning Cessna’s
landing nearby on warm summer mornings,

front doors thrown open to Eton, Jack huge
in cassock and sandals, great bald dome to
focus our attention during countless

homilies or dancing with surprising
grace up the aisle to the alter, center
stage for him where he performed for us our

favorite scenes on a bare set, holding
babies aloft, tempering unholy
Church intemperance with humanity.

They’ll salvage the pews, rescue the stained glass
and puzzle over a priest who won’t leave
the stage, proclaiming the Mass continues.

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