As you engage with the journey of this Holy Week, here is a poem one of our members wrote based on her experience at the Silent Retreat at Seton House of Prayer. May it bless your own meditations and reflections.
Paschal Mystery in Remix
I walked the path slowly,
through a red-bricked prayer labyrinth
encircled by the stations of the cross.
At each station, an ivory Christ protruded
from a dark-oak backdrop.
He was never alone, but surrounded
by supporters and dissenters
alike. Faces from throughout history,
embodying a myriad
of postures and prayers.
I walked the path slowly,
surrounded by crucifixion
in stages. In every direction,
he caught my eye.
I raised my palm-imprinted hand
with the condemning crowd, enraged
by his silence. Then, doubled-back
to reach down and wipe Christ’s grief-acquainted brow.
I wept in disorientation and despair
with the women of Jerusalem.
Then, straightened my back to walk boldly beside
as Simon carried the cross.
I gasped at Christ’s threefold fall, confronted
by his weakness. Then, silently squeezed
his mother’s hand as he endured the nails.
He walked the path slowly,
recursive redemption
in stages. In every direction,
I caught his eye.
By Emily Keery, March 2025
Ancient Streams 