Thanksgiving Poetry Contest: Mission, Danny Fitzpatrick

Danny Fitzpatrick is the author of a few books. He lives in New Orleans and edits the journal Joie de Vivre. This poem is taken from an in-progress verse drama about the life of St. Jean de Brébeuf, SJ.



Mission

Father, I give you thanks. I feel it here,
Amid this unadapted wilderness,
The mercy that you laid upon your Son.
This is a land of water and of blood,
A place your own illimitable will
Is shadowed forth in river, vale, and wood.

Yes, there is a justice in these shadows,
The summons of a million trees to one
That tells the hungry soul at last to look
And see the source of wisdom, to ponder
All the pleasing sight can yield, to stretch hands
Modeled on the making of love and pluck
That fruit whose savor is the life of God.

Do not, dear Father, let me lose the sight
Of that sweet bark against this forest fastness.
Do not permit a petty strength to tamp
The urgent soul’s insistence on your love.
Let neither cold nor cruel encounter quell
The ardor of a heart that seeks to cross
The ocean of itself to see your face
In every face that lifts itself to light.
To you, Lord, I commend our present task.

Draw from it what fruit you would, and give me
Only your love and your grace. That is enough.
St. Lucy, share with me your holy sight.
Good Rachel, guide me to the children lost.
Blessed Virgin, mantle me in your Son.

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