12 Lenten Confessional Lawrence Rhu Morning again made promises it broke
though foolish hope had led us to expect
something somewhat different when we woke.
Now news reports from far and near reflect
the shaking image of another day,
and seven deadly sins seem to control
the better part of everybody's soul.
Ilut what made hope pk.re golden common clay?

Start with yourself, like the wise moralist,
and detail the disasters of your ways;
then, after you've compiled a nice long list,
tum to the errors that our earth displays;
if you still find good reason to express
the glowering void that stalks your skipping heart
and finds its likeness in the supermort,
play prophet, only after you confess.

Regird the riot of your furious blood,
itS circuiting and surge at such swift pace
that hectic rhythms rock your simple bead
and bring bright colors to your civil face.
Why here's an animal who could make war,
who might not even pause at rape or pillage,
Cruel tortures or the burning of a village,
rbc daily news you properly deplore.

And yet, enraged, you lavishly complain
of wrongs that centuries have failed to right
while torrid humors course each fluent vein
and spawn, in all that foment, fierce insi~bt:
perhaps it's evil brothers us, or pain,
or maybe the way we try to counter it
and manage such a pleasant counterfeit
we're loosely labelled as the so-called sane.

But when you sec the castaway and odd,
who nightly prowl the brilliant thoroughfare
in lonesome discourse with the vagrant crowd,
you slip past fast, then, from a distance, sta.re.
You bear them ranr their lectures to the dark,
and at your stomach's fretful squirm of doubt,
blush lest the crazed eyes' flicker pick you out.
You sense a kinsman in a madman's lark.

Maybe you ought to join that brotherhood
and finally reckon with the wretch you've well
concealed, and simply yielding to the blood,
allow the rapid pulse ro rage and swell
and flood. You can play prophet to the air.
Since Brother Francis even deemed the words
of God and Gospel message for the birds,
you've a likely soul to follow, if you care.

Or since you've looked within a while and seen
a little, but enough, you should perhaps
now offer thanks and vow to curb your spleen.
Accept the blessing of a moment's lapse
when hints and glimpses undermine all cant.
We'll someday learn what mercy's up against.
We'll suffer gladly someday when we've sensed
the terrible pardon clear-eyed love can grant.