When once I was annihilated,
like a candle flame blown out,
I knew not where or whence I was,
but grew accustomed to the Dark,
and yet didn’t stumble blindly,
but knew my way to Him.

He kept me with Him briefly,
and I saw His inhuman Face—
like a Holy Caterpillar,
and I, a milkweed leaf.
He consumed me, and He smiled—
with tenderness. He smiled!

Then He said, “You have earthly
            things to do!”
So He set me down again
upon the gentle forest floor,
and I heard the laughter of Angels,
and knew again the rancor of the world —
not the noise of His Holy Munching.

Published in the January 27, 2017 issue: View Contents
Topics

Joe Ricciardi is a retired typesetter (Catholic Charismatic, Paulist Press), and a journalist/proofreader (American Jewish Ledger).

Also by this author
© 2024 Commonweal Magazine. All rights reserved. Design by Point Five. Site by Deck Fifty.