Sunday, February 16, 2014



I imagine
the dance we dance
through Heaven’s gate
will not be a waltz or fox-trot,
will not be a jitterbug or Charleston,
Macarena, Mashed Potatoes,
Twist, Tango or Watusi,
will not be the Stroll,
Funky Chicken, Electric Slide,
tap, jig, jazz or Cha-cha-cha.
It will not, of course,
be the sensual dance of Salome
with veils and evil purposes
nor will it be as
a performance by Isadora,
Pavlova, Nureyev or Flatley.

I imagine
Heavendance will be
like the Dance of David
of the Circumcised Heart,
dance of the Golden Ark
of the Most Precious Presence.
There’ll be leaping,
twirls unrestrained,
saints swathed
in rainbow radiance,
timbrels, trumpets
and shouts...
forever and everdance
with the greatest
joyleaps springing
from the Father,

Maude Carolan

Sunday, February 9, 2014

My Valentine to Jesus


Lord, I’ve come to curl up
close to Your sandals
like Mary of Bethany
my ears primed
to absorb each word You speak
I’ve tuned out concerns
that would pull me
from this footstool
and will not be bothered
by deeds or distractions
that would drown Your voice
If Martha insists
on doing busy-work
she must do it alone
for nothing is more important to me
than sitting right here
right now, with You

and I will wail
at Your sacred feet
like Mary of Bethany
when my strength falters –
I shall wrap my quivering arms
around Your sturdy ankles
allow my tears to run in rivulets
down Your dusty feet –
stir You to weep, too
till resurrection happens

but especially, Lord
I long to anoint Your precious feet
like Mary of Bethany
and come with all that I have
as she, bearing nard
for I, too, yearn to soothe
with pure, lavish fragrance
the calloused heels and soles
toes and arches
I, too, know well –
the very feet that carried Good News
to my ears and heart –
beautiful feet, bleeding feet
pierced through for me
I shall unpin my hair, humbly
like Mary of Bethany
take Your dust
as diamonds, upon me
I desire to be, unto you, Lord
a sweet aroma

and if I be scolded, as was she
by one who couldn’t possibly understand
so be it
so be it

Maude Carolan Pych

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Will I Love Enough to Pray?


Someone told me you’ve been ailing,
that the medication’s failing
to bring the healing that you seek.
You are scared and you’ve been crying,
you’re afraid that you are dying
and the faith you have is so weak.
I can tell you I sympathize,
even attempt to be quite wise,
cajole you and go on my way,
but the question of the hour
is will I turn my heel and cower
or will I love enough to pray?

A young man has just been sharing
that his wife is overbearing
and he can’t take it anymore.
He said he met a gal somewhere
and they are having an affair,
tossing his vows right out the door!
I may advise him to be strong,
say infidelity is wrong,
bring in a counselor today;
but the question that I ponder
is will I just weep and wonder,
or will I love enough to pray?

A close friend has been criticized
by a neighbor she despises.
Getting even is what she yearns.
She says she hates her in heart,
of forgiveness she’ll have no part.
Oh, how her words of anger burn!
I can attempt to intervene,
may even be the go-between,
tell them there is a better way.
I might speak of sin and leaven,
bellow, "Seventy times seven!"
but will I love enough to pray?

When a situation’s stormy,
I can seek Thee or ignore Thee,
use worldly wisdom come what may...
Though advice may have some merit,
I must look up, not to blur it;
mindful, there is a higher way.
Some will look at me quite oddly,
still, I must try something Godly…
I'll do it…love enough to pray!

Maude Carolan