First the incense,
then the Pie Jesu.
“His life was a bell,”
the deacon said,
“and the Spirit the clapper.”
(We passed her, pulling the rope.
You rang as we gathered round.)
The sun shone, and in it
I saw your Annie,
hardened but serene
from the long, depleting dying.
And the pine box – yes,
what better wood
to leave the world?
Chris Coppens, R.I.P.
What do you do when it rains?
The graveyard. You’d think it would be last, but it isn’t.
The highway. The one they call the ring.
Little towns. It would be nice to have a bigger yard.
The city. Where the bridge was too far.
The river. Not the Rubicon, but the Waal.
Wedging His way
into our world
The cross pictured above, by the artist Filip Moroder-Doss, adorns the foremost wall of the Sacramentskerk in Nijmegen. My workday begins in prayer before it. For an extended meditation, see “Cross Purposes” in the May 3, 2013, Commonweal.
Utrecht Journal 