This week’s poem in the Catholic Poetry Room is by Fr. Bonaventure Sauer, OCD.
And then he will send out the angels and gather his elect
from the four winds, from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.
If we were to name their names, so many, naming them
One by one, the sky would fill with light, the trees
Awaken, and the air wrap itself in woolen folds
Around this roll call of souls standing out in the cold
Like a great slum of row houses. Then they would
Look up, showing their faces one by one. Yes, it helps
On a day like today to remember that we possess such
Holy powers—To memorize the names of the nameless in
Every age and let them course through our veins, one by one,
Till each is reborn on the Great Wave of God’s unrolling scroll
And its summoning shout. We live now ready for that
Bright world we speak of, although we speak haltingly,
Fumbling with wonder as if with a ring of keys. Yet
We do speak, for such is the power the fire of love has
In us: “O Lord, mighty God,” we say, “when the sun
Rises tomorrow, the many souls who wait here, myriads
Upon myriads, will they have grown still wearier of
Hope and its disappointment? It is time, we believe,
For You to gather Your strength. What say you, Lord?”
The silence of His reply is charged with the weight
Of a hand—a firm hand and light touch. So, we lift up
These souls, each one of them, into the vast circle
Of our minds, and carry them forward into tomorrow.
Fr. Bonaventure Sauer, OCD, is editor of the Poet and Contemplative Blog.