growing up as the God-man

Harvey S. Mozolak

he has left the bed

of animals

Joseph borrowed a house

from some distant kindly relatives

and he is walking now

it seems early

but somehow nothing he will do

will probably be premature

when he walks around the room

outside in the small street

and at the nearby field where Mary

takes him for air

it is like he is a wild creature

caged or un-caged

it is difficult to tell

Auden called him a tiger

once I versed him a panther

his Book said behold a lamb

he has begun to hunt

and stalk evil where it is found

in the neighborhood and nation

like a child who cannot let a pet or beast

be still he will find the foe

and confront its tottering stand

with childlike simplicity of spirit

himself the taunted prey

he the serious game in grace

this is where my Father

sent me to walk

and take a stand

in a sapling

he tells Mary he wishes today to climb

to see beyond Bethlehem's soft beginnings

she warns him of its dangers

one hand to each low branch

he places

he has not yet strength to climb

will the pure and holy virgin

aid this early crucifixion?

are these the lion claws of Judah mounting

he the treed king of beasts?

straw pole

Harvey S. Mozolak

a hey for the hay

he’s bailing us out…

born beneath

the post

holding up the roof

of a barn

with stars stowed

in the rafters

caught

Harvey S. Mozolak

a manger moment

caught in time

frozen figures

warm God

caught just in time

for life beyond

refigured

God’s yes

Harvey S. Mozolak

one large brown leaf

enough to cover

our fall?

December speaks

through the spokes of tree limbs

beyond the stars themselves

a knowing “no”

in the nakedness of God

earthbound

table of Christ

Harvey S. Mozolak

the fragrance of setting

the communion table

wine unstopped

sharp free opened grapes

aged sweet and mellow

leaping to awareness

a life beyond the flask

beyond into the air

unseen but tasted

bread one whole

ready to be broken

and passed to hands

warm like awaiting ovens

faucet shut off

Harvey S. Mozolak

the phrases flow

wetting with ebony

a great deal of paper

with drying thoughts

of the ever God bowed

bent and twisted

into the dates of Augustus

but after the twenty-fifth

we quit counting

and only he does

for us

Christmas Sursum

Harvey S. Mozolak

cold this night when the night

creates anew all days

and an infant’s birth and breath

begins the opening of all graves

and closed hearts

when a baby’s beginning cry

are the first words of God

in our living human tongue

God singing to silence

angry un-quietude with peace

come here and near

and offered to us

the blood of God surging

in the cup Mary bears

and Joseph lifts up

diminishing the morning light

with the tiny tender struggling body

we receive and hold as warmth

o magnum mysterium

Harvey S. Mozolak

the enclosed within

maiden-held God

o great the small

he the I AM of all

mystery come to dust

and flesh for faith

in the greatness of the unseen

contained for us

to blanket bind bruise

bleed and bury
for from his bandages

the blessing of healing will come

post feast post

Harvey S. Mozolak

when it is over

all that is left

the red tail lights

left from looking

down the streets

of strung blinking lights

the cold pots and dishes

soaking in the sink

lost Legos making their way

deeper into couch cracks

and the flesh of gifts

crumpled un-ornamental

balls bagged for the trash

he is off to Egypt amid slashes of red

washed and walking the shore of the sea

then like a prayer shoved into the seams

of the walls of the city-promised peace

the earth unraveled

rutted with ruin

is his swaddling for death

and when it is over

all that is left

is his life posted

that we might live

afterWord and feast

gloria

Harvey S. Mozolak

above the wool-dotted field

a corona of angels

lights and warms a flock of men

as yet manger-unknown

lamps lit to lead

to the light of life’s new breath

where Joseph whispers

Mary quietly sighs

as the baby cries

in a barn’s darkness and cold

higher than the hills

Harvey S. Mozolak

the angels are painted

in glory about the madonna

with the Christ-child

a picture that did not take place

others with cows

donkey and sheep show

although

the unclean shepherds

crowding within

under the loft of hay

peaking beneath the straw

at the blanketed babe

have just seen

been to a concert

of an angelic choir

their hearts must still

beat in blessing

thump and trumpet

with the high praise

shepherds’ flocked praise

Harvey S. Mozolak

song from sky

sad and hurt bleats

among lost lambs

ewes and rams below

readied for sacrifice

a tree cold

covered with rare snow

for the star of stars has fallen

for the herd has been heard

by God

art by Moze

Shawn A. Mozolak

2015

earth kept

by king David’s greatest child

God’s sole Son

we are held

in the keep of the Shepherd of Israel

fed in the lowly Lamb’s manger

by the living staff of life

wood- one day his scepter of mercy

hoc est corpus meum

chaliced in our hands

HSM

2015