Simple Truths

Poetry...

Image credit: theconversation.com

SIMPLE TRUTHS

After reading my poems

the woman said that I am deep.

If she meant obscure,

obscurity is what I rail against,

but if she meant

the poems brought her

to a new depth

in her own perception,

then, praise God,

from my Bic

flowed

molten gold.

I yearn to be a poet

of God’s heart,

conveying Truth

in fresh simplicity,

not abstractions

that people scan

with screwed-up faces

then set aside,

untouched.

I want to write

as the shepherd/king,

letting the Spirit

guide my pen.

When the page

is put down,

perhaps

revelation

will flash

God’s glorious

guiding Light,

perhaps

gold dust

will sparkle

on fingertips.

Maude Carolan



FREE VIRTUAL EXHIBITION ONLINE...
The St. Catherine of Bologna Patron of the Arts Festival of the Arts is now accessible, virtually, online to celebrate 21 years of Art, Photography & Poetry. My poem, "Needing a Miracle, Like Jairus" is one of the featured poems. The event is free of charge. To access, go to: www.StCathArts.org. Enjoy!

Happy Father's Day to All the Daddies...

Here's an old story (in poetry)
about the fireplace my father built
in our backyard in West Paterson, NJ.

Remembering my father, Frank H. Walsh
on Father's Day...

My parents, Frank & Frances Longo Walsh
and baby Maude at my first Christmas in 1944.

OUR BACKYARD FIREPLACE

While camping along a river

in the Catskills with our family

during the 1950’s

Dad constructed a small rock dam

along the riverbank

to hold back enough water

to keep our beverages icy cold

We sat upon some of those river rocks

and dangled our feet

in the swiftly flowing mountain water

watching silvery minnows

maneuver around our toes

So many smooth grey rocks

gave my father an idea, so

when we were getting ready to leave

and the station wagon was packed

with all our equipment

Dad loaded every empty crevice

of the vehicle with as many rocks

as it could possibly hold

To vacate the campground

it was necessary to drive

across the river over

a creaky old covered bridge

Dad wasn’t at all sure the bridge

was strong enough

to permit the crossing

of our rock-laden station wagon

(which must have weighed

as much as an armored tank)

He told Mom and us kids

to walk across the bridge

then he slowly and carefully

with chassis nearly scraping ground

drove successfully across

Back home, Dad used those rocks

to build a backyard fireplace

which became the gathering place

for family and neighbors

centered around spectacular

blazes on warm summer nights

We roasted hot dogs and potatoes and

corn-on-the-cob and threaded marshmallows

on sticks and toasted them till they were charred

We sang, “Michael, Row the Boat to Shore”

and every camp song we could remember

and tossed woodchips into the fire

to watch the sparks fly

Once the fire blazed so high

someone from a block away

called the West Paterson Fire Department

and long red fire trucks, sirens blaring

pulled up in front of our house

Dad got a warning, squelched the flames

and offered the firemen hot dogs and beer

Many favorite memories were kindled

while swatting mosquitos

collecting fireflies in jars

watching our marshmallows burn to a crisp

under shooting sparks and stars

and summer moons

around that river rock fireplace

on Jackson Avenue

so many years ago

Maude Carolan Pych

It's a Beautiful Day for a Walk...

Skylands Manor State Park
Ringwood, New Jersey
Photo credit: trover.com

THE LOOP

I walk the Loop at Skylands, with Jesus Christ, my Friend,

telling how it is with me and what remains to mend,

confess to Him my failures and share sweet victories too,

knowing my Lord, so well aware, knows me through and through.

I tell what I rejoice in, of those I hope He’ll heal,

those who need salvation and about the ones who feel

life’s not what they expected, or that it is not fair...

I give the burdens to my Friend; leave them in His care.

At peace with my Companion, we stroll around a bend;

I tell Him I love Him with a love that will not end;

He tells me that He loves me, I’m precious in His sight...

I know my Jesus means it, which is my heart’s delight.

Sunrays filter through the oaks and warm me as we walk

past the shady Turtle Pond, where we resume our talk.

I praise Him for creation, the flowers and the trees,

fauna scampering here and there, the butterflies, the bees...

I thank Him for the sunshine, the pond and for the frogs,

turtles sunning on the rocks and chipmunks in the logs.

Then, finally, I get quiet and only hear my steps

and nature sounds around me; I reach into the depths

of my very inner being and listen to His voice

speak gently to my spirit; I feel my soul rejoice!

His still small voice continues along the wooded path;

encouragement He offers, sweet mercies, never wrath.

When our stroll’s completed, my spirit feels refreshed

from wondrous time together, our union tightly meshed.

What a blessing my Holy God cares enough to spend

precious time walking Skylands Loop, talking with His friend!

Maude Carolan

Revive Us, Oh Lord!

Oh Lord...If Ever We Have Needed You

We Need You Now...

At my congregation, Beth Israel Worship Center, Wayne, NJ,

We are praying for Revival, like never before.

Join us...

Image credit: brettowen.org

REVIVE US, DEAREST JESUS ll

My Prayer for Revival in America

The morning sun is streaming in as I prepare to pray

recalling what my pastor said in his word to us one day.

He spoke of the time we live in and of people losing faith,

of disregard for God’s Holy Word, and an increase in hate.

Many churches are closing or the Gospel gets watered down,

there’s disrespect for spiritual things and God is made a clown.

My pastor said he’s burdened; therefore he’s asking us to pray

for a nationwide revival; hope for all who’ve gone astray.

Oh, my dear Lord Jesus, You were born to save us, this I know,

and by Your death upon the Cross, You conquered the evil foe.

I know Your desire is that none be lost, that’s my desire, too,

therefore, I am humbly on my knees and crying out to You,

to reveal to all who know You, Lord, the need to repent.

Point us back to Your Holy Cross and why Your Blood was spent.

America must turn back to You, and live our lives Your way.

Oh! Let there be revival here.  Let us see it in our day!

We must have sorrow for our sins, and confess those sins to You.

We need to call upon Your Name, and then be Born Anew.

Through Your amazing grace and love, there’ll be splendors in store

and by Your Resurrection, we will have life forevermore!

May multitudes flock unto You, countless as grains of sand.

May churches fill up with faithful folks all across our land.

May dusty Bibles be opened and hearts abound with love.

Lord, I’m sending my morning prayer, straight to Your throne above.

O Savior, You are worthy to receive our honor and praise.

Draw the backsliders; draw the lost, to walk in all Your ways—

Revive! Revive us, Jesus! I long to see what You will do

in answer to this earnest prayer…all glory belongs to You!

Maude Carolan Pych