My Dream Is You

an original poem by Helena Noel

Holy Love made manifest,

Bread for human hearts,

Cup of Life, we daily bless

The graces You impart.

I call to You unworthily,

Elated but abased.

Your Sacred Body, Precious Blood

are veiled in what we taste.

And wretched I, with longing eyes

affixed to monstrance throne,

am begging grace to see Your face.

My dream is You alone.

Simply Joy

an original poem by Helena Noel

This joy carves silver furrows
down my cheek

I've Been Getting Love Notes From the Eucharist

 ...I probably should read them...

I had a chance for something wonderful, and I didn't take it. You know those times when God feels a little distant? You know those times when you feel like he's calling you back to Him?

1 D Where has your lover gone,

most beautiful among women?

Where has your lover withdrawn

that we may seek him with you?^*

The Song of Songs (here, chapter six,)  is one of those love notes from God the above title mentions.  Today, I was given another that I didn't take to heart right away.

For certain reasons, I'd found myself absolutely drenched halfway though the school day. I needed to go home and change. For certain other reasons [Thanksgiving,] one of my midday classes was canceled and I was able to accomplish just that. I can't exactly explain why, but I felt compelled, and I DO mean *compelled,* to wear a skirt, which isn't common for me. I kinda laughed as I changed: after school Tuesday and Thursday are the few days of the week I see my extended family for dinner, and I'm always late because I stay after class for videogames in my school's common room.

 "It's WAY past five," they always tease when I finally come in, "what, did'ya have a hot date?"