To Deaconess No!
On her natal day, September 25,2011
May you always be
God's masterpiece of art
Alive for his people
Who deserve nothing less.
May no lines go astray,
No colors fade,
No forms be deformed,
No movements of grace freeze
In your dance of love, of life
In your knowing,
In your being,
And in your caring.
Who showed a grand way to live
And a manner of dying well,
Dare us to greater choices of freedom.
O flesh and blood of our race,
Whitelight and scarlet wounds,
Be close to our touch, to our music,
For empowerment in the solitude
Of the heart of the people's war.
May you live forever, Beloved
Beyond human memory that wavers
Like sunlight in the clouds.
And when ballad and bell are silent,
Be swift answer to prayer
Like a steadfast star.
Asun of the Revolution
In memory of Sr. Asuncion C. Martinez, ICM,84
+ July 21,1994
Who/what shall separate her from the land
That birthed her and now receives her into its sanctum
The land she helped defend against its desecrators
The land she opened us to as womanness of our being
Redeemed and reappropriated she is volcanoes
Of prophetic anger and flowers of justing love
Who/what shall separate her from the sky
That assumed her dreams and prayers for justice and peace
Her sweet incense of sacrifice and celebration
The sky wide as her embrace of the poor in body and spirit
Remembers and releases her as care of light and shadow
As night shedding tears like shooting stars
Who/what shall separate her from the people she served
Of picket line and rally and violent confrontations
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Silent Night, Holy Night
(After Mategna’s “Night”)
Claim this night,
The silent night, holy night of Christmas that pierces through
The noisy night, unholy night of Empire.
The night of Empire is darkness of capitalist globalization;
Its voice, the loud lies of big business, the jingles of their ads,
Fascist bombs and the shrieks of torture in prison camps.
Its night of unholiness envelops factories and slums and war-torn countries;
Denuded forests and unfriendly genetically modified farms;
Hungry children and refugees and the unemployed;
The sick and the lonely; you and me.
The silent night, holy night of Christmas breaks through the night of Empire
And births light from light for us to see:
A Mother fascinated by new-born revelation cradled in her arms;
And a donkey of burden playfully displaying its profile for the Child of promise.
The night frames hope and joy for eyes long violated by imperialist media.
The deep silence sounds the song of Word-Made-Flesh
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Ana Isabel Ramirez-Bosch,32
(With Emmanuel Levinas)
+ January 11,2009
Free from totalities of sea earth and sky
Free from imaginal plays of sense
Free from proud graspings of reason
Free from echoing chambers of heart
Ana Isabel Bosch mother lover of life
Here there she is beyond essence
Totally Other and otherwise than being
Beyond anguish and anxieties of dark rooms
She disturbs questions static patterns
Of our lives with traces of her presence
Telling all beloved and stranger alike
There is no death but only only
Dying to one’s self for better life
Ever creative redemptive and sanctifying
[...] Read more