The Troubled Guest Waits, or Reply to Goethe

Tell a wise person, or else keep silent,
because the mass man will mock it right away.
-- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, “The Holy Longing,”
translated from the German by Robert Bly

Yes, Father, I have felt the grace
that flows from Your sacraments.
I want to give You everything,
but I am flawed in my longing.
This “troubled guest” remains
impatient, impure, afraid of being

misunderstood. I am too often
thinking of someone
other than Mary, Mother of God,
and Your Holy Christ Child,
my Savior. I wear thin the path
that leads to the confessional
but overplay the symbolism
of the priest’s rose-colored robe,
swishing through green Advent

wreaths. I obsess over
each prayer candle burning
into silent darkness. Maybe on
Gaudete Sunday I can
actually give You all of myself.
Couldn’t that be considered
“higher love-making” or, at least,
an early Christmas present? Must

everything about one’s body
concern burning? …sex?…sin,
purgatory? Jesus, I need grace
to fly into Your Heaven.
I want heaven,

but I need You now.