A gypsy’s art is music rare,
Flaunting mad beauty everywhere.
One night of nature’s art he stole,
On tree and shrub took vivid toll;
With dashing brush and powerful sweep
Touched mountain tall and cavern deep;
A gorgeous symphony painted
Rhythymically, and new life feinted
In life that was threatening to die.
A fantasy, a brilliant lie!
Colossal crime, to die glad-voiced
Her face was not a flower.
Wan years had spent its charm.
Dear, dainty, collared bower,
Her face was not a flower.
But like a fresh spring shower
Your frills struck love’s alarm.
Her face was not a flower.
But you restored its charm.
Evelyn Coffey
That I found lying on the wind-strung shore,
Thinking to toll it like a pearly bell
In my love’s ear. A charming metaphor!
Into the pinkish lobe that oceans swell
With odes of poignant longing, love, and lore,
I sang my song. Perhaps my love will find
It there one day, if wind and sea are kind.
Evelyn Coffey
When I think of you,
I die, too.
In my throat, bereft
Like yours, of air,
No sound left,
Nothing is there
To make a word of grief.
Evelyn Coffey
Sixty heart-beats
Register in rhythm,
Slowly,
Before the clock
Takes a step.
Thought
Is the pendulum
That marks
Its heavy-footed
Pace.
Evelyn Coffey
We were all there,
the least of us
(All least -
except to Him,
except to her:
Those of us who love her,
or who don’t;
not least -
hers!):
there in the mud,
there on our knees
in the mud,
weeping . . .
afraid . . .
digging the earth
when the sun slipped,
digging the earth
with our shuddering bodies,
trying to hide it;
scratching the air
when the sun fell,
scratching the air
with our whimpering souls,
fearing to die in it.
One word locked it.
One word:
the easiest word:
the first word:
“Mother!”
God knew.
(God can afford to be
humble.
He’s God.)
He said it first
too.
***** Evelyn Coffey
Wooden manger
May a stranger
Kneel before you
And adore you?
Dear God-Baby,
I thought maybe
If I cuddled
You, my muddled
Brain could sever
Grief, the lever
Of each doubting
Angel's shouting.
Little One, wise
Christ-Child, will eyes,
Blind with sorrow,
See tomorrow?
Evelyn Coffey
First
(not born first –
in God before-stars-first)
Child . . . . Christ!
New . . . . today!
Now . . . . today!
Mary’s Child,
First Child of Mary
(Star of the Sea,
Sea-Star)!
See . . . .
We
Heaven’s are
Who brother
Christ
Through Mary-Mother.
Drop, Stars,
Drop down,
Drop!
More star than stars,
He dropped
Down to earth,
Down to dust,
Down to stable-dwell.
Come to see, Stars!
Come to touch,
Light-touch, love-touch,
Love-light Christ!
(to this original ca. 1940 were added in Advent 1989, presented in the St. Ignatius Chapel on campus:)
Bend, knees
swell, hearts,
sing, tongues
Bend, O knees He prayed for;
swell, O hearts He paid for;
sing, O tongues He sighed for;
love, O loves He died for.
Christus natus est!
Evelyn Coffey
Drink from my chalice, dear.
Drink of my cup of dreams.
Love's sacrament is here.
Drink from my chalice, dear,
And heart on heart revere
Its sanctuaried beams.
Drink from my chalice, dear.
Drink of my cup of dreams.
Evelyn Coffey
Invocation
You shall no longer live,
Pale-breathing Soul,
If you hear not
A song to sing:
If you see not
On the wide sky roll
One violet wing
To trembling blot
The sunset’s dripping sieve.
Make speedily a cup
Of crystal; lift it up
To catch this falling food,
This falling good!
Evelyn Coffey
The Child is gone - the lonesome ring remains.
So frail a link could scarcely hope to bind
A sprite as free as the unfettered wind
To an impeding world that it disdains.
That child was never meant to bear the pains
That bow the bleeding shoulders of mankind;
A dreamy while the Cherub was confined, -
Then quietly he shed his galling chains.
How came he here? Our gilded world, 'twould seem,
Enticed his truant feet to quit the pale
Of heaven's playground; angels came apace -
As to St. Peter, bound in Herod's gaol -
Unloosed his chains and faded with no trace
Save this one link, - the girdle of a dream.
Happiness
An ethereal flush,
Linked with the breath
Of angels
And bound with petaled thought,
Lingers on the stream’s pale face.
Her waters chant,
Gurgling and rippling
With the staccato patter
Of pink-brushed feet.
A little child has bathed
Within her depths.
Evelyn Coffey
First
(not born first –
in God before-stars-first)
Child . . . . Christ!
New . . . . today!
Now . . . . today!
Mary’s Child,
First Child of Mary
(Star of the Sea,
Sea-Star)!
See . . . .
We
Heaven’s are
Who brother
Christ
Through Mary-Mother.
Drop, Stars,
Drop down,
Drop!
More star than stars,
He dropped
Down to earth,
Down to dust,
Down to stable-dwell.
Come to see, Stars!
Come to touch,
Light-touch, love-touch,
Love-light Christ!
(to this original ca. 1940 were added in Advent 1989, presented in the St. Ignatius Chapel on campus:)
Bend, knees
swell, hearts,
sing, tongues
Bend, O knees He prayed for;
swell, O hearts He paid for;
sing, O tongues He sighed for;
love, O loves He died for.
Christus natus est!
Evelyn Coffey
On Reubens' Painting of Saint Peter
What fleeting moment has the painter wrought
In lines eternal on this graphic square?
How wrapt the prince is gazing - unaware
Of all save one soul-baring ardent thought!
Just such a look - impulsive and untaught,
So charged with love, so redolent of prayer -
Must flame from Angel faces when they dare
Gaze full on God, and by His glance are caught.
Perhaps a breeze from Esdraelon Plain
Has stirred a pensive pool in mem'ry's stream
To raise that mist of half-apparent tears.
Perhaps a far-off shepherd's lovely strain
Beguiled his willing ears until they deem
They catch the Master's hymn of former years.
Evelyn Coffey
Heading: In the beginning was the word ...
November Sunset
Beloved,
what music lies
in the skies
to make
clouds move to it?
Hold fast the still
soft moving?
Poise the light
white
bright?
Make sound stand still!
Hold it fast!
Hush, trees!
Oh breathe, no bird!
Let the loving
Word
cast
down its sea’s
song.
Shake,
Heart!
Break!
Wake!
Evelyn Coffey
Evelyn Coffey by Pat Kyser is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
