Wednesday, September 16, 2015

The Battles of the Saints

An old poem of mine:

The Battles of the Saints

Here am I,
Weary and embattled,
Facing the foe that a thousand saints
Have struggled against
And won.

And here am I,
Directionless and faint,
Facing the foe that a thousand damned
Have struggled against
And lost.

The saints had courage,
Of which I have none,
But the damned had nothing,
And I still have Christ.

Holy Augustine,
Pray for me now;
If your resurrected eyes
Can yet see this gloomy sphere.
Remember the fight you fought
All those long and lonely years;
Have pity on a wounded friend,
And plead for me
Before the throne of endless grace.

Holy Bennet,
Pray for me now;
If you have yet been raised
To realms of endless day,
Look upon me now.
Ask for me the desperate courage
Which flung you on the piercing thorns
And broke the tempter’s snare.
I have need of such resolve, my friend;
Oh, remember me.

Holy Aquinas,
Pray for me now;
You who shook all earthly thrones
With the power of timeless truth,
Shake the eternal throne
With a plea for the glory of God
In my riven, helpless heart.
May I find the strength of will
To snatch up the blazing, fiery brand
As you did, young and bold of heart,
To drive away the darkness
And rout it from my soul.

But perhaps they cannot hear me,
Heroes past and gone,
Yet still I cling to the hope they provide,
The gift of courage to a desperate heart.

But there is One who intercedes for me;
Though I have no courage,
Though I have no strength,
Yet I have one thing,
Which no one can snatch from me—
I am borne in the arms of Christ,
And there I find my rest,
Forever and forever…