Ordinary

https://www.lds.org/media-library/images/maple-leaves-1251157?lang=eng

for Cristi

Past winters, she was
a solitary stick,
heckled by wind
and a jumble of
unwelcome weather.

But she bewildered the
misguided opposition
(and even herself) with
a dazzling testament
to a hidden & beautifully
unapparent life.

Michael James Fitzgerald

The Rim of the Moon

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blood_Cresent_Moon.jpg

Along a keen edge
of dark and light
I ran an unsuspecting
finger

and left behind a
sunset drop
in memory of this
forgotten world,

its atomic trouble,
double-barreled blame,
shark-toothed schoolyard terror,

from which I flee
like an invisible child
flying home
one last time.

Michael James Fitzgerald

Rabboni

The Sun rose, brilliantly
and unforgettably wise.

She yearned to
mislay indelible
desolations,

While iron hands
clutched scents of
impossible reverence,

The reliquary’s shining
witnesses requited
by tear-drained eyes.

How she turned from them!

“Where is He?” she
demanded of a lowly
Gardener,

barely a shred of
her former self
in evidence.

“Mary,” He said, the
only word the moment
could demand,

The first word on
the first day of a
recalculated infinity.

Michael James Fitzgerald

See John 20:11–18.

Hear My Dream

The inevitable Man will
burn conscience to ash
if Pilatos hears me not.

I witnessed His suffering,
a visceral dream so low
waking seems only dreaming.

Hear me, infinite
aspiration! Destiny
is not among your gods.

Jupiter this day has
fallen from the
grace of veneration,

And so shall you
if you hear me not—
if you dare with cold fingers
to touch the Soul of the universe.

Michael James Fitzgerald

See Matthew 27:19.