In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A True Saint.”
Patron Saint
©October16th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
I am a saint. Look at me!
See that halo around my head?
You don’t?
Hang on, I’ll adjust it.
No, it’s not there!
Where did I put it?
Yikes! Here it is,
Shivering in the refrigerator,
Along with sagging beans
Bought at the Farmer’s Market
Bursting at the seams of their pods
While I burst with good intentions.
No, wait for me, Halo!
It’s gone — vanished in a trice.
Ah, here it is,
Lurking in the Blue Room,
Piled high with boxes brought
Home by me three months ago,
And dumped willy-nilly from my
Teacher-life of seventeen years.
(I’ll sort through them, I shall!)
Wait! Vanished again!
Look! Here it is, hiding under
Beautiful tulip bulbs, in their paper bag,
Clutching forlornly at
Their Spring promise of life
Muting their hysterical cry of color,
Waiting for me.
My halo trembles there,
Beckoning timidly at me
With halo-ey fingers.
I reach for it, but no, it
Vanishes again.
Ah! Foiled once more!
I am ashamed, truly.
I know this, though:
When I go soil-wards,
Spade in hand,
Bulbs in bag, it’ll reappear.
When I go room-wards,
Roll up my sleeves,
Sort, rearrange, dump
Discard, put away,
It’ll reappear.
When I chop up those beans
And parboil them,
And freeze them,
Oh, so prosaically,
While putting poetry aside,
(Just for the nonce),
It’ll reappear.
And then, I’ll grab it,
Stick it behind my head,
Where it’ll shine
Proud and assured.
I’ll point at it,
(In case you didn’t see it)
Dance a little dance,
And sing (humbly, you understand):
I am the Patron Saint
Of Good Intentions!
See me shine
Brilliant and beatific.
Come, I shall bless you.
Come, join my canon!
Together, we shall
Create more Good Intentions,
On our merry way to Hell.
But first, there’s work to do!
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