The Counselor







A desk stood in the room, whose occupant,

A counselor of souls sat close by it,

So courteous he, - so caring and gallant,

He made a troubled ward relax and sit.



Great zeal and dedication absolute,-

Dynamic militant spread sheen and glow,

Breathed through the counselors breath into the wood,

And from the wood returned onto his brow.



Fine brow, - enticing assiduity,

Persistence, zest unflagging for her weal,

Praise God! praise! praise! for soul care's ministry,

Give thanks for eager interest and zeal!



Solicitude for her,- so great and strong,

Au par with sweet persuasive urgency,

Made this a-trembling heart break out in song,

And faint and giddy with felicity.



' La matière vit!' says Teilhard de Chardin,

( Matter has life) - she felt this to be true,

It likewise was confirmed by Origen,

As counsel’s desk took on surreal hue.



Of care of soul this ward would now take part,

And of her grievous sins and troubles freed,

O what exuberrance now filled her heart,

As care of soul – Praise God! - was 'Guaranteed' !



But counsel left his post - she can not tell,

And not reveal just why he was transferred,

On things so sad she wishes not to dwell,

But only say: it hurt her, oh it hurt.!



He’d had the gift of spontaneity,

So unabashed that touched her to the core,

As at a feast – a great solemnity

He waved at her. and there was so much more.



Across the dais he sped and quick came close,

Light footed step his, - agile, nimble, fleet,

There was a fragrance of the nard Ambrose,

And oh! She marveled at his gift of speed.







Alike the glorious Pentecostal wind,

That has no bounds. barriers and no confine

That no one can constrain, revoke, rescind,

Her heart sang out : 'This cup of joy is MINE!”



Small talk ensued, oh naught significant,

Or was it really so? She could not say,

But she could clearly hear Ambrosian chant.

And was hit hard on Corpus Christi Day.

Things changed, O bitter woe- now Counsel,  stood,-

Not sat - friends notice this, please! please!

Detached  -  Kenosis' style- and  would

With measured gait approach the window sill..



She tried to show him on a map a spot,

Which on this  ghastly desk she slowly spread,

But counsel looked out to the Parking Lot,

Disinterested in the "A" train's net

In trains or subways coach or borough bus

Anticipating change and Exodus..







Lo! Out the window counsel looked - note this!

His gaze transfixed to witness and arrest

Arrivals in the Parking Lot of guests

Which held his focus and his interest.



The window so attracted counsillor,

To watch   aught, that she knew not what it was,

But safely guessed it was the janitor

Absorbed in filling up some tanks with gas.



Lo! counsel watched with focused interest

All these so fascinating goings on,

So gladdened these proceedings to attest

Without him even asking her pardon.



Oj grief!......



And counsel changed,- changed personality,

Urbane civility soon graced his brow,

Replacing warmth, zest, spontaneity,

And a so different wind seemed now to blow.



Nuanced, post modern, measured courtesy,

By rather careful words accompanied,

Displaced the erstwhile spontaneity

With joy, so inncent, now on retreat.



Spring time!and glorious Corpus Christi Day,

Spring time! - sweet innocence of Spring!

Oh lovliest of days in June or May,

When all is joyous song and big bells ring.



When the three precious word still have significance,

And are not merely spoken by routine,

A thousand times a day in 'kind' parlance,

Thus mean no longer what they’r meant to mean.



Are there two souls within one only man?-

Enigma t'is, - a mystery no doubt.

Change came to him, but how and were and when?

No way for human beings to find out.





But counsel took on different ward-ship soon,-

Vicissitudes of life Alec, Alas!

It happened fast, fast, with the following moon,

By odd commands, decrees, or Caritas.



In charge of other wards he thrives now - thrives!

Acclimatized, -Lo! - in one single day,

To bring to bloom elected souls and lives,

Lest so much more preferred souls go astray.



Man must adapt to circumstances new,

Ajust to situations that befall,

Be flexible and yield - this is so true,-

Yet the degree of speed is optional.



He thrives, his cup is filled up to its brim,

And overflows to nourish site and ground,

A-drowning memory lane , befogged and dim,

But watering souls more apt and worthy found.



Affinity of soul can't but reaveal,

Curriculum vitae and life's secret tale,

To worthy souls,- but keeps in dark the eel,

The carp and blowfish, shrimp, and mackerel.







He ministers to souls and he takes care,

With zeal, alacrity , speed, zest, delight,-

The numbers count – the more the merrier,

He heals their wounds ouvert or recondite.



He burgeons, blooms, by sit-in wards buoyed,

And countless others of the happy throng,

With charm and gladness pure and unalloyed,

To render the infirm and troubled strong;



His erstwhile desk lost radiance and hue,

Lost its contagious luminosity,

But a disgruntled chap squeezed Elmers glue

On bulletins and then went out for tea.







But like the zephyr wind in whispering reed,

That bows and lisps and murmurs ln the breeze,

And Lotus blossoms as they wink and greet,

And signal:

'Dearest one, cling not so much and fast,

'You do perceive as Present “NOW” the past,

'Contemporaneous', (t'is hard to bear, we know,

Strange burden t'is to carry here below)'.



'But we don't spin nor weave, but we can sooth,

This galling faculty of yours and ill,-

'We root for you,-and greet your Angel Muse,

And send you comfort in a swallow's bill.



'Red Robin and the little Whip-Poor-Will,

Will crown you with fresh bays and laurel wreath.

And others of your friends that tweet or trill,

But peep in empathy: 'Joy's cup's not yours - but ' H I S.'









© Elizabeth Dandy










































































































































View blumentopf's Full Portfolio