Thursday, 28 February 2013

Waiting for a Miracle....



Dawn was the deepest  blood-red this morning...
Jagged naked black trees scarred the horizon like lightning in negative - like there was a crack in the sky and it was bleeding profusely...
Rather than work I could just as easily have been journeying through Hell.
Neither fading moon nor morning star.
No bird stirred - nor was there the regular sound of early-morning traffic...
Across the park neither early-riser nor dog-walker...
...and my wildest imaginings had me envisioning turning the corner to face a barren landscape surrounding a sparking industrial vast dismal nightmare City of Dis.
It felt like the end of the world...
I suppose the sky could have as easily been interpreted as cardinalatial?
But not by me.



Three hours to go before His Holiness departs in his helicopter...six before the Ring of the Fisherman is broken...and the Chair of St Peter will be empty..



I can't deny it.
I want a miracle.
I want the clouds to part and golden rays to illuminate the dusk more brightly than the Sun  and amidst angelic throngs I want Our Lady to descend and halt the proceedings.
Our Blessed Mother: Queen of Heaven: Queen of Rome: Queen of Priests...



I want the World to fall aghast in awe and incredulity as Our Lady introduces a white-bearded gruff palestinian whirlwind of a man, nailmarks in his calloused fisherman's hands, a smile that could melt hearts, throwing his arms around His Holiness and turning, presenting him to the dumbstruck Cardinals declaring in a voice that makes the heavens cower :



"This is my Successor! You will have no other while His mission goes unfulfilled. Help Him: Let Him help you...."
He raises a wooden crozier and the doors of the sistine chapel fly from their hinges...
"He is the Keeper of the Keys - there will be no Conclave while my brother breathes..."



Then behind St Peter appear four terrifying otherworldly entities of overwhelming beauty...
One of the Archangels speaks before the Cardinals, Bishops, Priests and Religious:
"Among you are those who have betrayed the Keys, betrayed the Precious Blood, hence you are commanded to sever all your ties and rebuke the Prince of this World - or face the consequences."
...the sword of St Michael gleaming in the twilight...
Some have fallen prostrate in prayer, some ashen-faced and frozen to the spot..others fleeing the scene like the hounds of hell were after them...all having no choice other than to believe the tenets within their priestly vows...
...and Our Blessed Mother turning to us all declares.
"This man speaks for my Son: Listen to him: Do as he bids you..."



But we haven't earned  a miracle...
We never deserved this Successor to Peter - this Gentle, Genteel, Genial, Genius German Grandfather...
Rome's loss is all our loss....
The Helicopter will ascend into the heavens towards the palace of silence...
And Benedict XVI...Father of Fathers, Servant of Servants, The Great Bridge...the First among Fishermen...the Shepherd of Shepherds... 
Will be gone.
And we must live with our regrets.



The clock ticks down...it is now nearly two hours before His Holiness departs.
I can but watch and pray....and argue with my Guardian Angel that it's not too late for something to happen...





1 comment:

Ttony said...

Once again: yourd words, my thoughts.