February 3: Ice Storm Warning, "Pange Lingua Gloriosi," Vote

My daughter is out with her boyfriend right now, driving around, shopping.  Just saw that an Ice Storm Warning has been issued by the National Weather Service.  It goes into effect at 10 p.m. tonight.  Whenever I see things like this, my first instinct it to tell my daughter to come home immediately, that it's not safe to be out.  It's a holdover from when she was a baby,  I think.  I wanted to protect her from everything.

I know I can't do that anymore.  She's going to make mistakes, suffer heartbreaks and setbacks.  She's 18 years old, and the world is waiting for her.  She's smart.  I like to think we've raised her to be independent and practical.  She certainly doesn't take a whole lot of crap from anybody. 

Yet, Saint Marty still wants to tuck her in at night, sing her a lullaby, say a prayer over her after she falls asleep.  Old habits.

Pange Lingua Gloriosi

("Sing My Tongue the Savior's Glory")

by:  Martin Achatz

On Holy Saturday, I put my daughter
To sleep and think of death.
Tonight, milk is her enemy.
She stands in her crib, dark eyes watering,
Her chin slick with fear.  I lift her,
Strip off her wet pajamas, wash her fevered body
With a cold cloth.  She shivers, yet lies still,
Accepting the bath in silence.  I dress her,
Fresh and lotioned, place her back inside the crib
My wife has just cleaned, cover her with a quilt,
And watch her settle into the pillows
Like a sleeping fish.

Before Easter, these quiet moments
In the dark, there is this:
I listen to my daughter's breaths,
As Mary might have listened to her son's,
Counting them
Like stars in the night.

Vote for Saint Marty (Marty Achatz) for 2019/2020 Poet Laureate of the U. P. at the link below:

Vote for 2019/2020 Poet Laureate of the U. P.