Joseph Mirra

In Bethany, what might the Lord have saidHad Martha never questioned Mary’s ways;If Mary were the one to speak instead?A very different question she might raise:“Lord, don’t you care that Martha will not sitAnd be attentive to your tender voice”?“O Mary, Mary, this I will admit:It’s true . . . . Continue Reading »

The saints are quick to give their hearts awayAt every gentle prodding from above,And bear the scars that visit mortal clayThat dares to venture near God’s burning love.So grateful for the price that has been paidTo change mankind’s infernal destiny,They joyously accept the holy tradeOf . . . . Continue Reading »

In Bethany, as Jesus dines with friends,And Martha sees to it that all are fed,Her sister to the Lord alone attends,Anointing him for coming days of dread.She breaks the jar as love and duty meet;Her worldly wealth she gives no thought to spare.With precious oil she gently bathes his feet;She kisses . . . . Continue Reading »

I’d chosen English lit with the intentOf studying the writings of the Bard;But I was told he wasn’t relevant,And it was not to be—I took it hard.Intriguing tales he told of kings and queensWere so alive, so perfectly expressed.Appropriation though vents many spleens—These tales must . . . . Continue Reading »

One day I woke up and became a None;It gave me lots more time to think and pray.I’d think about bad things religion’s done,And pray that God would now see things my way.I wasn’t like those numskulls who believedAlmighty God did not per se exist.I mainly just preferred to be relievedFrom Sunday . . . . Continue Reading »

O where was God when all things fell apart;When with the fury went our hopes and dreams?We kept him at a distance from the start,And now our world was bursting at the seams.The same reports of threats we heard for years,Till background noise was all that they became,As we ignored our deeply hidden . . . . Continue Reading »

The precepts of the Lord are pretty clear—What’s right or wrong is plain enough to see.And yet the question that we often hear,Is who are we to judge what shouldn’t be.It seems the ban on judgment trickled downFrom other people to the deeds performed;To say, “that’s wrong,” will . . . . Continue Reading »

Enticing to the coward is the crowd:It speaks what each dares not to speak alone,And compensates for fear with voices loudTo offer wisdom that it doesn’t own.With stridency, a courage is displayedWhich hadn’t been in evidence before;The shame of individuals afraidFor just a time the crowd lets . . . . Continue Reading »