HAROLD LORIN

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The Poetry Of...
Harold Lorin............................................................

The Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time

This is indeed an ordinary day.
Ordinary clouds roll over us
And usual tragedies are happening
While the choir sings, the children pray.
Within the dense dark tenor of our time
Scattered common acts of love pierce
Well founded canopies of fear.
The young pastor speaks of Jesus and salvation.
It is indeed an ordinary day.

Chronicles

We write our days in little boxes
Inside of spiral bindings.
Towns and cathedrals we feel now our own
Concerts we have heard
Paintings we have seen
Dinner with friends or not friends
En face des Alpilles of Cezanne
Blue shuttered windows of a provincial town.
Is this our life? It isn't bad.
Or is our life what we have never written down.

Judas

Jesus told him what was needed.
There was the sound of muted breathing
In the small and shadowed room.
Jesus touched him. Judas sighed.

At the supper, John tells that Jesus
Gave Judas bread and then He said,
Go. Do now what you will do
Only Judas understood. He left them.

He led them to the garden not the man.
They had seen Him at the Temple every day.
There was no need for a Judas kiss.
The kiss was real. The kiss was sorrow.
What was to begin would now begin
A Faith cannot be based on a betrayal.
There is enough of that.
It must begin, as it began
With hope and love.

Harold Lorin has just published a magnificent volume
of collected verse, complete with photos of artwork by
Lucy Lorin. It can be found here at Lulu
The Usual Thing
Congratulations, Hal, on a beautiful
accomplishment.

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