Writings

Every day,
babies born in backwaters.

Denied milk of justice,
sucking violence,
reaping revenge.

One, breathing disturbing divinity,
stirred love, resentment,
grew life out of death.

We, branches,
cherish Light,
unearth seeds of darkness …

Birth Integrity.
Watch what we nurture in cribs.

Roma De Robertis scic
Advent/Christmas 2003 ~ New Year’s 2004

Ice Pebbles

Like snapped, cold wire__
shattered crystal;
like the lone, erupting sound
in a hollow canyon,
ice floated by__
on the wintering
Ottawa river.

Heard in the solitude
of early morning__
outside of me,
what was floating
inside___like
chimes ringing,
calling out again__
“I am here!”

Doreen McGuire scic
February 4, 2004

Each morning I walk to Sacred Heart Church and
each morning a different aspect
of inner-city life catches my attention …

Children, multi-sized, bundled up
......against the cold,
............at corner light –
......Does God dwell here?

Three church spires drenched in
.............winter morning sun –
......Does God dwell here?

Blood spattered on the sidewalk, a trail
.............along a city block –
......Does God dwell here?

Shivering figures huddled against
.............a food bank door
......Does God dwell here?

Warmth in tired friendly eyes which know
......the gamut of life’s tragedies –
......Yes, God dwells here!

Aline Roulston scic (1990)

A new friendship alights upon my heart
like a small bird, delicate, beautiful, tentative.
It’ song brings life and hope for future strength
and a call to greater being.

But will it stay?
Will its feathers ruffle and in a moment of timidity
lift anxious wings in flight,
leaving behind empty space and silence?

How does a gift, at first so fragile and so cautious,
Grow in depth and meaning,
Liberating the Spirit within each of us
To touch new levels of understanding and trust?

O little bird, may I respect you, treat you gently,
and allow you the freedom

to be as you will,
May I recognize in you the symbol
of God’s presence to me
in the person of my friend.

Aline Roulston scic

On daily Eucharist …

Last evening I looked at my hand,
palm-up, lined and ageing,
Where daily lies the Bread …
..........Way, Truth, and Life
Cradled but for a moment …
..........Creator, Redeemer, Friend.
......Silence, Awe.

It is consumed, enlivens my being
..........for hours ahead.
Then, the day spent, comes anticipation
..........of tomorrow’s
...“Body of Christ, my friend.”

Aline Roulston scic