Thursday, March 27, 2014

swath of chiaroscuro

Letting go of things such as success, status and material goods was necessary on the journey to becoming an honest self. I still need to understand the deeper sense of letting go, of handing over to God the direction of my life.
We come to know that all of our dyings and risings occur in Easter's first light.
--Anthony Grasso, CSC

Our Upper Room

The strange thing about the Liturgical year is that it doesn't quite match up with the solar year.
Chronos and kairos are slightly off-kilter.

Campo di Fiori in all its glory

This year, the ground is still frozen and snow frosts the ground.
Underneath my feet, a thin sheet of persistent ice crusts the sidewalk.
Memories of last year: of light reflecting off Roman terra cotta roofs, of Good Friday fasts broken by gelato and fragolino behind the Pantheon.

sassy fruit vendor is sassy

Phone calls broken up by weak European cellular connections,
busy marketplaces and quiet chapels, hidden beauties tucked inside Churches on each street corner.

Holy Thursday in Bologna. Figo.

A rain-kissed Good Friday and brilliantly sunny Easter.
Pesto and pasta and limitless carafes of wine and Nutella cornetti.

Passings away and startings anew.

But I'll still believe though there's cracks you'll see,
When I'm on my knees I'll still believe,
And when I've hit the ground, neither lost nor found,
If you'll believe in me I'll still believe
--Mumford and Sons, Holland Road

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