http://noelihebuzor.tumblr.com/post/22508014666/fifth-sunday-of-easter-sharing-readings-and
my rambling thots on today’s readings from the catholic liturgy!
@naitwt
Day: May 6, 2012
A song of Faith and Hope
By Noel Ihebuzor
When you find yourself before the day, a day
darkened by crisis
your road blocked by obstacles, slippery and forbidding
…blinding and obstructing
the path of faith
will lead us to the fair and feast
of supreme joy
that God prepares for us.
Be confident
No need for despair
Believe in His cross of wood
Even if sleepless night blight your path
Even if ferocious dogs bark loud
And cold freezes your soul
And warm bitter tears of despair
prepare to unleash with the force of a tsunami
and anguish inundates and threatens to wash you away
Even if the terrors of the night seek to drown you
as they frighten your dreams soaking them in clammy sweat
even if the world threatens to fall apart
and suck you in and under
be confident child of faith
stand up, child
say No, and kick back the incipient despair
re-conceive your savior
your king, his laws, so simple
faith, hope and charity
be strong and steadfast and believe
be steadfast and re-launch yourself
upright on his path
your eyes fixed on heavenly things
contemplate his light that illuminates
in the rays of the sun
His reassuring caress in the soft smile of the moon
the shining stars his priceless pearls
Behold His glory, drink from the endless bounty of the joy
He freely bestows, without limits, across and beyond borders,
Without equal
on this day born of faith
this joyous day of Easter and for always
@naitwt on twitter
Interviewee’s lament
The interviewee’s lament
by Noel Ihebuzor Tuesday, 18 January 2011 at 20:09
When you and I speak in
settings stiff, skewed and tense
in this market place steeped in imperfections,
in flawed assumptions, unequal rates of exchange and asymmetries
judge and jury,
you hold both the yam and the knife
when you and I engage
in these strained encounters
and you must ask me what, how and why,
me, tense, my tongue parched dry,
stiff as wood
my phrases now in patches and stutters
my cool calm flown
my rehearsed composure in rout ,
unraveling, ideas in disarray
and you cool and assured, must ask me what how and why
please ask
but let the why not fall with the deadening
deafening weight of a ton
nor weighted down by a long dangling darkling tail
inflamed hot by your enlarging arrogance
swaying wantonly, entangled by accumulated pride
tinged with prejudice
propelled by malice, intent to manacle.
So drill me, grill me since you must,
with your what how and why
but gently, not a mangling why,
that verges on the arid,
that seeks to ridicule, No,
ask me why and how, a plain why,
simple and clear
nothing of the trajectory of the calculated knockout punch
not a why with vicious and malicious intent,
with concealed traps, seeking to abase, debase
to reduce me
otherwise I could defy roles
turn the tables and also ask you
the favorite questions
of the town imbecile,
(him without guile or vile intention)
“how long is a comma,
when spoken with the feigned forced eloquence,
of the newly turned ajebo?”
“how many grasshoppers will make one cow?”
“how many half truths make one truth?”
questions similar to some of the ones
your assured tongue hurls at me
in our unequal engagement
questions that verge on the sterile, the hostile
straining my patience and
leaning progressively to the irrelevant
Reflections 