Spiritual Marriage
by Andrew Richards
(from Song of Songs)

O, Rise up my beloved, my fair one, rise up and come away!
Your beauty is the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys,
For now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
And breezes sweetly rise from your gardens filled with flowers,
The time of pruning is over, and the singing of birds is come,
And the voice of the turtle is heard in the land

O Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!
Let me drink thy beauty, let me hear thy voice,
For thy voice is sweet, and thy face a delight,
And your eyes have ravished my heart, my love,
Thou hast ravished my heart with a single glance,
As your Kiss fills my soul with spiritual bliss.

O How fair is thy love, how much sweeter than wine!
And the scent of thy presence fills the air with sweet spices!
For a garden enclosed is my beloved, a garden in full flower,
And the fruits of thy vines are an orchard of delight,
As streams from Lebanon water the garden of my love,
And perfumed scents from your blossoms fill the air.

For I had come into thy garden, sick with love,
And intoxicated by the scent of the spices;
And then I heard the music of thy sweet voice,
And I tasted the honey of thy mystical kiss,
And I was ravished in a torrent of delight,
Leaving me drunk with the new wine of the pomegranates.

O, Rise up my beloved, O rise up and come away!
For by the vision of your beauty, I am slain in delight,
Now the winter is past, and the rain is over and gone;
And all creation sings, as fragrant flowers fill the land,
For the Mystical Kiss you gave me fills me ever with delight,
And by the Marriage of our spirits, we are One Eternal Light.

End

THE CROSS
by Andrew Richards

Alone... alone with suffering and pain,
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
Why does this fever burn in my brain,
Ah! my pain now must infinite be.

Before I did bid you, "Come follow me!
To be my disciple, you must share in my cross,
When you suffer for love, you suffer with Me,
Who brings life out of death and resurrection from loss."

But now the blackness has drowned me in sorrow,
My light has turned to the misery of hell,
The pain in my flesh portends suffering tomorrows,
And the promise of joy I no longer foretell.

Oh Father!... your Will has dragged Me to hell,
Though not for the world do I bear this great loss,
But for those, in My Name, you have chosen so well,
Who called from this world, shall find life in My Cross.

For they are My friends, who my suffering do share,
Who are no longer alone in their misery and pain!
So Father, their spirits I commend to your care,
For through Crosses embraced, does your Love ever reign.

end

HER GRIEF TRANSFORMED
by Andrew Richards

Alone I sat, alone in grief,
A lonely heart, I had no hope,
Filled with pain, with no relief,
With such fear, I could not cope,
Half my life had ripped away,
When death took him from me that day.

I saw a neighbor's smiling face,
Wondering how it came to be,
To me such smiles seemed a disgrace,
In view of death's reality,
I turned away from laughing eyes,
Refusing joy when everyone dies.

Seeing friends busy with life,
Made me sick with hidden disdain,
Unaware, that death's bitter strife,
Would suddenly find them, certain as rain,
For life is only flesh and blood,
And soon enough we're dust and mud.

Cut off from the love on which I did lean,
As my weeping filled the solitude,
I was near despair at a life so mean,
Oh where is the one to lighten my mood.
Oh what is the use, I cannot go on,
Nothing has purpose, all hope is gone.

I started to quake, in sobbing and aching,
Remembering the face stolen from me,
Then panic began, and my body was shaking,
As I thought of the life without him, to be,
Then all of a sudden, a light grew inside me,
And an imageless vision, I started to see.

My panic did stop as I felt a Great Power,
And the Presence of Jesus I suddenly knew,
His Voice in my mind,in that sad hour,
Filled me with courage, and joy ever new,
His Words were life to a spirit dying,
His "Be not afraid!" ended my crying.

I have kept this secret to the present day,
For none would believe the heavenly power,
That turned grief to joy in a wonderful way,
And that changed my life from that very hour,
For years have passed since that heavenly sight,
And today I am married to His Spirit of Light.

End

WOUNDED HEALERS(St Dominic's Way)
by Andrew Richards

The Faith's destruction is very near,
The priesthood's called by a cowardly name,
We serve the Lord under growing fear,
Even bishops have fallen from dread and shame.

We've come to you for a better way,
O Dominic tell us what to do,
For we will listen to what you say,
Speak some words from your heart so true.

The Lord is my light and my salvation,
Whom shall I fear? Father Dominic said,
The Lord is your strength in each situation,
He is your peace as you sleep in your bed.

Though a host encamp against me,
My heart shall not be afraid,
In desert storms, like storms at sea,
His strength is shelter, and gives shade.

Yes, that's very good to hear,
But we are seeking simple advice,
We live in shame that's costing us dear,
What is the remedy for clerical vice?

The remedy you know, why ask it again?
Clergy are wounded and fall in this life,
To Love the Lord God is the answer to sin,
His Name on your lips puts an end to your strife.

In place of your fear, give praise to the Lord,
And He will protect you when priests spill His Blood.
With His courage you must fashion a spiritual sword,
For His Cross is the bridge over clerical mud,

For though there be mud at the base of Mt. Zion,
The summits are snow that dazzle in whiteness,
The saints overcame with power like a lion,
Having leapt over mud to God in His brightness.

So be glad and rejoice that your heart's with the Lord,
Though all fall about you, you never will fall,
Be a soldier of Christ; wield His spiritual sword,
Wearing God's holy armor you'll overcome all.

End

SITTING BULL(A Good Day to Die)
by Andrew Richards

Exhausted from riding all day,
Jim was chased by a party of Soiux,
His gun was fastest of all they did say,
He was the bravest of warriors they knew.

Pearl-handled Colts round his waist he did wear,
And his rifle was Remington true,
While fishing one day, he killed him a bear,
In the Red River land of the Soiux.

The spirit of the bear was a dear totem true,
Of the warrior they called Crazy Horse,
For killing the bear he would give him his due,
He would scalp him with animal force.

But Jim was a man who prayed every day,
At sunrise you'd find him at prayer,
A kindly man with a courteous way,
He was in all things exceedlingly fair.

The Chief of the Soiux, Sitting Bull was his name,
Like Jim was renowned for his prayer,
At Little Bighorn one day in a vision that came,
He was warned about Jim to beware.

The party of Soiux, with Crazy Horse in the band,
Were hot on the trail of Jim's horse,
They tracked it by sight in the Red River sand,
And found it tied up in due course.

The party of twelve, with the Chief in the lead,
Began howling like wolves for the slaughter,
Sitting Bull warned them off, away from this deed,
For in his vision, their blood flowed like water.

Then Crazy Horse charged at Jim from his side,
And like a bear made a growl most amazing,
And though he lived, three warriors died,
For in a flash, Jim's pistols were blazing.

Sitting Bull viewed the blood with disgust,
As Crazy Horse hung his head in defeat,
The Chief challenged, "Where is your trust?"
And with one leap, he was soon on his feet.

Then with nothing but a stick held in his hand,
The Chief's wild cry did frighten beast and man,
At Jim he ran while terror filled his band,
And with the stick did hit him, as he ran.

Jim well knew why the stick had hit his head,
By "counting coup" the Chief had saved the band,
Guns back in belt, Jim viewed the Indian dead,
Then bowed to one, the bravest in the land.

The Chief bowed back and looked him in the eye,
And started chanting prayers of those in mourning,
To all he did shout, "It's a good day to die!"
Giving thanks for the vision and the warning.

And with Sitting Bull still chanting prayer,
Toward Little Bighorn now the band did run,
The men complained, "Our life does not seem fair!"
We have no tales of battles we have won.

Then Sitting Bull did call to all his men,
To them he said you know I do not lie.
The Spirit said a victory we'll win,
At Little Bighorn soon our enemies will die.

And the power of his words, to the Indian band,
Gave courage to their hearts without delay,
For the prophesy foretold "Custer's Last Stand,"
And the glory for Crazy Horse that fatal day.

And from Minnesota to Platte Rivers,
From Mississippi through the Plains,
The Little Bighorn still delivers,
A freedom spirit that never wanes.

And Sitting Bull, and his sacred role,
Is still honored by the nations of the Plains,
Great wisdom flowed from his prophetic soul,
And the glory of his vision still remains.

So let people rejoice in God's Indian nations,
The Messiah's your joy when you dance the "Ghost Dance,"
To Mary revealed through angelic revelations,
Praise His Name, Eyayo'yo'! Haye'ye' Eyayo'yo!

End

THE MYSTIC KISS
by Andrew Richards

In the still of the night,
Under desert stars so bright,
A mystic kiss of pure delight,
You gave to me beloved.

In the silent desert night,
A spirit filled with light,
I was wounded by the sight,
When you came to me beloved.

Out of nowhere, in the night,
A desert breeze of pure delight,
I, alone, blessed by the sight,
When you came to me beloved.

The desert wind warmed the night,
Your perfumed scent was my delight,
A spirit bliss, diffusing light,
Was our union my beloved.

In Beauty O so bright,
A marriage in the night,
A transformation of delight,
You gave to me beloved,

Now our love burns in the night,
And the desert breathes delight,
And we two do give one light,
Since our marriage my beloved.

End

THE PRECIOUS BLOOD
by Andrew Richards

Oh, the wonder of His Precious Blood,
One drop of which a fallen world does win,
It is red, red, red like a growing rose bud,
It gives sacramental life to rebels turned from sin.

When the Lamb shed His Blood, men were able to say,
In the Church there's a chalice of salvation,
This New Wine of His Blood is giving Life here today,
As the Spirit breathes His grace through every nation.

In Baptism we're reborn by the Blood that He shed,
All ages blest through the Church, Our Holy Mother,
By His scourging and His crowning He gives Life to the dead,
And in our place on the Cross, He showed Mercy like no other.

Oh, the glory and the wonder of His Precious Blood,
Flowing through His "Sacred Heart" in Eucharist,
It is red, red, red like a growing rose bud,
And the force of its power not a devil can resist.

O you that I love, "Eat the food made holy for Thee."
"This is My Body! This is My Blood!"... and Sanctity,
My Blood purchased your soul when I hung on a tree,
That My Body and Blood might your joy ever be.

End

ST BERNARD'S WAY
by Andrew Richards

Oh Speak, Bernard, that we may hear it,
Proclaim the glorious mantra bliss,
Relate ecstatic flights of spirit,
Reveal to us the mystical kiss.

"I'll speak of Jesus," says the brother,
I'll speak the Name of Abundant Life,
For He gives love just like a mother,
His Blessed Name calms worldly strife."

O well you speak, and well you say,
How Mighty God became a man,
But teach us now the cosmic way,
We want a higher spiritual plan.

A higher Way than Jesus the Word?
I know no cosmic spiritual plan,
Higher than God to me is absurd,
We come to Life through Jesus the Man.

My soul rejects all spiritual food,
Not seasoned with His Holy Oil,
And houses of prayer soon collapse,
When planted in some other soil.

"For Jesus is honey to sweeten each hour,
His Name's a melody in one's ears,
His loving glance restores our power,
His Name within doth still our fears.

And always leaning on His Cross,
We find His Joy and never weep,
We learn to treasure worldly loss,
And speak His Name, or never speak.

End

Fair Dinkum
by Andrew Richards

Jim was a man who never used his fists,
An Aussie born near Sydney they did say,
He had a kick that never, ever missed,
Though He walked away from fights every day.

Raised in the bush out WaggaWagga way,
Jim learned to stomp snakes on the farm,
Plowing the fields, to God he would pray,
O Lord, keep my family safe from harm.

For he was very young, when his father died,
Leaving Mum and brothers all alone,
Working on the farm, Jim never cried,
A braver son had Wagga never known.

When his Mum got sick, and the doctor finally came,
They heard him yelling "Crikey" through the day,
A specialist was needed, a doctor of great fame,
But Jim he had no funds by which to pay.

Searching for a way by which to help his Mum,
Jim went to town in hope of help divine,
Passing by the pub, he did smell the rum,
Then just beyond, he saw a great big sign.

The words he read took him by surprise,
"Who'd dare to fight the wrestler known as 'Hack'"?
Ten thousand dollars was the winning prize,
The prize for him who knocked Hack on his back"

Jim went inside and saw the whited square,
His many mates were standing all around,
Hack grabbed a mate and tossed him through the air,
Bones breaking as his body hit the ground.

His many mates warned him to stay away!"
They said that he could even die that day,
But he jumped the ropes, without a word to say,
Then Hack's big fists, showed him the Milky Way.

With an Aussie smile, Jim was laid out straight,
Thinking of the snakes resembling Hack,
Then "Crikey," he yelled, "Mum can't longer wait!"
So he jumped back up and set to make attack.

Jim snake-like coiled to face the charging Hack,
Then lightning fast, he struck him with both feet,
His mates all gasped, as "Hack fell on his back!"
And the crowd did cheer, "Fair dinkum he was beat!"

Jim won the prize and hurried for the phone,
The doctor said don't fret, "No worries mate!"
And though he ached with pain in every bone,
He thanked the Lord for snakes, and blessed his fate.

End

CONTEMPLATIVE PRAYER
(from Book of Wisdom)

Wherefore I sought God, and understanding was mine,
I called upon Him, and Wisdom came upon me,
And I preferred her before kingdoms and thrones,
I esteemed riches nothing in comparison of her.

For all gold in comparison of her is as sand,
And silver in respect to her shall be counted as clay,
I loved her above health and beauty,
And I chose to have her instead of light.

Now all good things came to me together with her,
I knew not she was mother of them all,
For she is an infinite treasure to men,
Which they that use become the friends of God.

So set her as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm,
For stern as death is Her Love,
Its flames are a blazing fire,
Deep waters cannot quench it,
Nor floods sweep it away.

So let us all aspire to know her,
Let all interior souls desire her Wisdom,
Let us all humbly ask this prayer from God,
And leave the timing of the gift to His good pleasure.

End