Easter 2002

The Deep

The deep, you tell me,
cast out into the deep --
that could mean anything

the deep is unknowable
opaquely alive with
creatures accustomed to
hiding
the deep is a name for
loss
shadows live there
unfamiliar waving forms
curiosities that invite
and repel

you want me to go there

you want me to cast my net
into the deep -
my net -
that fluid comfort I
run tenderly through my fingers
and mend, and hold,
that guarantee of livelihood
my security,
the net of your promise -

you want me to cast that net
into the deep
when the net is my safety
the deep
my anxious fear?

What you ask of me spins the world.
It's the net you want me
to cast into the deep
my safety net
my net worth, you want
me to cast it away
out of my hands
out of my reach and dive

dive into that dark depth
without

a net.

Brenda Peddigrew, RSM (NF) November, 2000 (for Chapter, 2001)

The Jesus of the Broken Leg

He is the more than crucified,
the worse than dead.
He knows the day's hunger;
He feels the night's anger,
He lives the city's misery;
He bears the streets' treachery.
We do not meet him in our churches;
We would not want him in our houses. He does not smell pleasant,
He does not speak politeness.
You will spot him under bridges,
You will find him in the gutter.
Greet him.
He is our shame and our reminder.

Mary Wickham RSM

* The crucifix in the chapel of Corpus Christi, a Melbourne community for homeless alcoholic men, has at some stage been damaged, the legs on the plaster figure smashed. It is a powerful symbol of the abject Christ and the suffering in our contemporary world, as well as a sign of hope and solidarity for those who pray there for healing.
Mary's collection of poems "In The Water Was Fire" is available from Spectrum Publications

The Road to Resurrection

Ash-grey, the beginning
Of our journeying,
And there will be other symbols
To grasp and taste,
Lest they pass me by.
Green branches, shining with songs,
Clear water, yearning the raised hand
And Easter trickling.
Tall candle, craving the live coal.
Nailed wood, cup and holy fire,
Believing there is Light
Already present in the darkness,
Cosmic evil, reluctant in defeat.
Your Resurrection
Never was a separate event,
You came to it, day by day,
Called to abandonment,
In and through Your life and death,
Not after it.
In surrender to Your Father,
And carrying the consequences,
You came right into our darkness,
Where dying grain is rising grass.
I am afraid of this . . .
This recurring call to selflessness,
Which is already
A being lifted from the dead.
Vigil-keeping with the Word,
I lean to the Script,
Reaching for Bread,
Waiting for that Light
Which has already conquered,
That with Christ, I may be drawn
From illusion to reality . . . to Life.

Mary O'Neil RSM

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