Nicodemus by night
Harvey S. Mozolak

dead unseeing wall
of stone and rock
crying a cataract of tears
waterfall in graven grief
wearing away the hard earth
but never bearing
the flowers of birth
in the dark night
sightless as the blind
in the dark womb
of un-birth
comes one in the nick of time
allowed by eternity
to be the sign
cross stick
the log jam
above the cataract
of the soul
dark without Jesus

Lent 2
John 3. 1-17

Transfiguration
Matthew 17. 1-9
Harvey S. Mozolak

figuring across 
staying in the mountain moment
pausing in the profound praise
basking in the blessing
some are led to such heights
at times and in places
occasional and isolated often
but as we are touched by the words
of the Word and taste his flesh
and are consumed by his life-blood
there are only
the days and land left
until the resurrection
among which Jesus walks
to figure a cross

walk in the woods
awaiting four inches

Harvey S. Mozolak

the snow has collected
in small depressions
where the bark is pulled away
from a trunk
in a pock of a rock
at a deep center to a pile of leaves
gathered against the wind
on the lateral limb
refusing to follow the rising tune of the tree
in the cleft of roots at the base
a large flake
flies at the window of my mind
lashes shutter shut
and a tear refuses the cold
even the wonder of some intricate impression
for the snow gathers simply a pall

precious the moments

Harvey S. Mozolak

no pallid pale passion
but plenty of pastel angels
they make a nativity
set with soft lambs
simple haloes like gold wedding rings
even children kneeling
in and before a ceramic
lovely-flowered cross
but no bodied wood
cold clay with dark stains
deep red swashes
and cracks showing in flesh
placed on bedroom bureaus
and family room knickknack shelves
among wishy-washy souvenirs
of the precious moments
of life before death

(reflection on another’s [Pr. L.P.] observation) 

cardinal
February 9th before 8 AM

Harvey S. Mozolak

there maple’s crimson
had congealed to brown
taking the small senseless flight
death’s drip
to mound the ground
as the fall storm stirred

at about the same place
and perhaps exactly
on a winter-bare branch
was a bright bird
two days in a row
red as a drop of life
today the third
still February freezing
the air empty
where the twigs like feathers
await returning warmth
and the leaves of light

beneath
in the thawing earth
the cardinal’s claws clasp
beak and break the worm

Matthew four
Harvey S. Mozolak

curing every disease
and every sickness
among the people
the gospel signs
the prescription
take this One for eternity
curing every…
even well… you know…
certain things
small or swollen
gums and scalp
and can you cover lower places?
and Lord
would you look at my big toe
too and how swollen it is
these rotten sandals
sure we know leprosy
and bleeding that will not stop
dropsy whatever that is
blindness and paralysis
but cured by God
salted to last
that’s good news for…
ears that cannot hear
and hearts clogged with hate

Matthew 4. 12-23

sursum corda
Harvey S. Mozolak

her thoughts at once fearful
yet surprised
Mary reached into his arms
and marveled that her Joseph
was not dead
old but lively in this moment
as they dried the wet infant
of heaven’s dew sprung
from the virgin well
he laughed
the beams of the carpenter’s arms
like the limbs of an unshaved oak
held the boy high
unlike that bearer who carried holiness
and touched to catch the falling
ark of promise in a stumble
he cried and died
her hands and Joseph’s ached
only with love to lift
the  baby from the feed box
and hold God squirming among them
the covenant
begging to be touched and kissed
that he might share joy divine
and his Father’s forgiveness
for the Fall