For Angelo
Standing there, saying Mass,
His hands moved over candles,
Flames burning brightly in his eyes
As priestly robes, gold and crimson,
Caught on fire, brilliance spreading
Intensely from his fingers, waves of blue
Electricity grounding to an altered current,
Ocean bubbling from the marble font.
Moving in the spirit, the crowd
Began to sway, dance, aroused to love
Each other, kindness ending hate,
Scars charred, slumbering hearts awake,
Alive, manifested such immortal blaze,
Light found them breathless, beyond doubt of
Burning bush or prevailing deeper truth,
Energetic, passionate with ageless youth.
He was incensed, this burning pastor,
Heart bleeding, filled with sorrow,
Blood boiling with desire for justice;
Fiery eyes glowed, holy oils searing,
Pursued by something inescapable—
Joyful hint, a mere suggestion of the journey
Still to come, ascending into tender care,
Diving into dreams he could not resist.
Bursting full to welcome everyone….
Gave away consecrated bread, offered
Taste of honeyed wine to all who thirsted,
Sacrilege ignored, arms spread wide.
It was a bit much, this shocking scene,
The day the church burned to the ground.
Ashes to ashes blowing in the circling wind,
Doctrines cast aside, blood sacrifice alive,
Loving for no good reason…
Perfectly heretical, wordless,
Eternity entered into Being.
Having done his graceful work,
He disappeared, mystified, walking tall,
Unafraid toward the crypt, his vestments left behind.
Soundless music in his ears, he slowly descended
Steps so dark with memory that visions crystallized.
Blessed by prayers of insurrection, indiscretion
Noticed by his bishop, this forbidden, extinguished priest,
Distinguished by his burning passion, open heart
Celebrating, remembered for years to come for
His angelic kisses, blessings pouring from his eyes,
Tears becoming fire in sight of all who witnessed
Quickened flesh, burning, tasting of the brilliant sun.