[with poems by Helen Losse]
Until we find the communal meaning and significance of the suffering of all life, we will continue to retreat into our individual, small worlds in our misguided quest for personal safety and sanity. – fr. Richard Rohr, Center for Action and Contemplation
Follow a six-year old around the yard when flowers are blooming. Most enticing, of course, is the dandelion puffball. Got to pick that one! It takes several tries for her to blow those little dancing featherettes into the breeze – a few seedlets stick to her unicorn t-shirt, a few in her hair. Will they grow there?
Next comes anything purple or pink. She must add a few grape hyacinths on their too-short stems to the bouquet of daffodils we’re cutting for Grandmommy. And some pink azalea, cut that one, Pappy. Oh my, and look what has opened since the sun came out yesterday! She pulls a single bleeding heart and holds it in her palm. We’ll float it in a paper cup of water so she can take it to Mom this evening.
Finally return to the everywhere-flowers, yellow in everyone’s lawn. Walking around the block it’s Truth or Dare – will they paint your fingers if you pick them? Tooth of the Lion, look at the notched incisored leaves. She chooses the brightest flower. Nothing is a weed if someone loves it.
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Which is the theme of Easter and of Helen Losse’s book, A Flower More Enduring: Love redeems. God is God of life.
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Yellow Blossoms
populate the uncut yard.
Weeds with purple blooms
create asphalt cracks.
Hardy wildflower,
tall blades of Bermuda grass
widen others. I fall to my knees
on the lawn near a budding
thistle. Saints and angels
present but silent, I pray
for a dandelion heart.
Helen Losse
. . . . . . .
The poems in Helen Losse’s A Flower More Enduring are intensely personal but enticingly universal. Her conversion to the Roman Catholic Church has brought her assurance but also challenge. She finds herself in the company of Mary and the Saints yet still she seeks and seeks . . . what? Perhaps to discover what she had never expected to find.
And Helen’s readers who come from different faith traditions, I being one, or from no tradition at all, may still discover with her an experience which we never expected: the universe reaching toward us in unconditional love. The outstretched hand of human commonality that might unite us in our suffering. The hand we ourselves lift to return that touch, the reaching which is called hope.
. . . . . . .
I cry out to God
on the night of the knife-wind.
Thoughts rise, incense
under waning moon blows with fog.
Phlox darkens the soggy prairie:
downy phlox, moss pink,
phlox the color of lavender.
O, how I cherish God’s creation:
flora, small rocks, tall hills, mountains,
feral beasts, domesticated pets,
each human soul, the Savior
on the Cross: Eucharistic Morsel:
Source of Grace I can’t store
in a lidded basket.
I am a rabbit returning
each night to a summer garden.
I must eat again & again.
Helen Losse
A Flower More Enduring, Main Street Rag Publishing, © 2021 Helen Losse
. . . . . . .
I stand in the shaded bathroom
with it high useless mirrors
into which I cannot see,
asking, “Are we rich?”
Daddy holds me on his knee
but would never tell me (or
any innocent child)
he doesn’t know how he’ll pat the thirty-seven fifty
house payment due on Friday.
Instead, he explains,
“We are rich in love.”
Helen Losse
. . . . . . .
In the Christian liturgical calendar today, 15 April 2022, is known as Good Friday, three days before Easter. On Sunday morning our little congregation will adorn a rough wooden cross with flowers – death conquered by life. Perhaps there’s a subconscious bit of pagan homage to the vernal equinox, but to my mind the message of new life is our foundation. Consider: no person and no thing exists outside the sphere of God’s universal love of life. In the cosmological sense there is no outside; in the spiritual sense no outsider.
A Crucified God is the dramatic symbol of the one suffering that God fully enters into with us — not just for us, as we were mostly taught to think, but in solidarity with us. The Good News is we do not have to hold that suffering alone. In fact, we cannot hold it alone. As we approach Easter, let us remember that we too can follow this path, actively joining God’s loving solidarity with all. What starts in God ends in God. All of reality is moving toward resurrection.
fr. Richard Rohr, Center for Action and Contemplation: Transformed people working together for a more just and connected world.
. . . . . . .
Dandelion on green lawn
A girl bends low, picks a flower
to give to her mother.
The child loves the flower,
a weed adults tend to favor less.
The child blows seeds from the puffball,
whit feathery globe of potential.
The seed is the heart of the flower:
tiny perhaps but profoundly fecund.
Each seed floats with the wind, grows
where it lands, blossoms in sunshine and rain.
Helen Losse
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
V E R S E ❦ I M A G E 