To surrender to a sacrament
To surrender to a sacrament
is to open
to be swept
clean
away
in a flood
to feast with friends on a spring fresh shore
to never again have to carry a burden to exhaustion
to be joined and pressed
to be rebuilt again and again and again
to give in ways unforeseen
to be an open grave
in the row of your generation.
Hymns
The squeak of the walker wheels
starts out in the parking lot,
advances slowly through the door
and down the center aisle.
The quick loud clicks of the three-year-old girl’s hard shoes
as she goes back and forth between the first pew
and the edge of the sanctuary, walking up,
testing her limits, and then running back.
The dominant chord from the choir
of crying babies and fussy children
mixes with the minor tones of rustling bulletins,
the zipper of a purse
and the passing of toys and baggies of Cheerios
and above them all the bleeps and songs of ringtones.
These are the hymns of the faithful,
counterpoint to the prayer book songs,
that you, Dear One,
listen to so diligently
while I fume impatiently.
Frank Desiderio served as a pastor, campus minister, and author (Can You Let Go of a Grudge, Paulist Press, 2014). He produced the film Judas for ABC TV (2004). His poems have appeared in the Spring Hill Review, Windhover, Ars Medica, among other journals. He lives in Manhattan.