one word therese: blossom
little flowerblooming
her basilica
here in Tres Leches
flowers on
Zarzamora
whispering through
the grill,
through
the retardant vigor
of her
dying darkness,
her wish to see
her husband
darkly
insinuant
in the water
that calls
her name.
Labels: little flower
posted by murat11 at 8:24 PM
14 Comments:
And then there is Teresa, hooligan turned mystic, after sneaking out with brother to meet up with the boys, papa said, "Get thee to a nunnery!". In the nunnery, found a husband who gave her transports of delight. Heavenly visions outweighed all else. barefoot, founded a poorer convent, exchanged food for love, raptures, transports of ecstatic delight. and now a moldy finger encased in glass and gold adorns the entrance of the nunnery. In Avila, this tale is told...
labels: libro de mi vida, duelling saints
Sister Teresa of Anaheim: World Cup of Sainthood: France vs. Spain. Little Flower does have her own basilica shrine here in Tres Leches, quite a lovely place. "Blossom" popped up as the evening prompt over at the oneword shrine, just after we finished watching a French film about Therese. Seemed apt.
Sainthood is assuredly an acquired taste.
And then we have Calcutta, too, to add color to the mix.
Interesting that Little Flower would have a basilica in Tres Leches. Most Spanish speakers go for the Spanish version. Growing up most people spelled my name with an "h", but I was named for the Spanish version. Even saw the finger in the convent in Avila when our family was doing a tour in 1977. I was barely 16. it's one of those memories that is emblazoned on my consciousness. That's where I got my copy of "libro de mi vida"--Teresa of Avila's autobiography.
I always liked the beginning of libro de mi vida when she describes sneaking out with one of her brothers because she had a crush on his friend. She didn't start having the visions in the convent before the Mother Superior put her on an extended fast in a solitary cell because as a novice she was talking to her brother and his friend and I think they were trying to break her out of the convent. Once she started having the visions, the book goes down hill for teenagers. Personally, I prefer the Teresa of Calcutta model of sainthood in that she really helped others. But yes, I would agree that sainthood seems to be an acquired taste!
Good connection for the prompt blossom.
T: Of course, in New Orleans, to go along with "prompt blossom," you have Our Lady of "Prompt Succor." One of my first child clients in NOLA was a boy who has been kicked out of Our Lady of Perpetual Help: I loved the irony of the boy's predicament and the school's name.
Down in the Quarter, there was a trio of female-impersonating Divas who sang and at intermission sold likenesses of themselves as suckers: the embosomed candies were called, yep, Our Ladies of Prompt Suckers.
I love your writing, really and truly just love it and then for dessert - there are comments/conversation in which the writing is strawberries on the cheesecake, the petals on the blossom. I hummingbirded in and out and around and drank all the nectar greedy bird that I am :)
Our Ladies Of Prompt Suckers indeed.
Dee: I'm very happy to have you visiting here to add all your love and spice.
Ah, the Little Flower. Patron of my last brush with Catholicism. the beauty of consumption. Consumed by whom? These saints embarrass us but we'd be poorer without them. Why does every shot of ecstasy come with so much pain? I might prefer a morphine drip, but then I'm no saint.
Perhaps there is a correlation between degree of pain and degree of joy. They are the type who only know the extreme ends of any spectrum!!
Loved the Ladies of Prompt Suckers! Now they probably feel very little pain, but not so much real ecstasy there, either.
Glad to know that Dr. Murat could step in when the Perpetual Help ran dry! I hope the kid turned out all right.
Personally, I enjoy all the people who comment on your blog. You have such a wide range of interesting friends (and hummingbirds!). It's a very nice community here in Muravia. I'm glad I found it. Not your ordinary space; it seems that you have to be able to tesseract or dimension warp to get here. Very fun crowd!
This reminded me of Santa Lucia, who poked her own eyes out to discourage her suitors. Santa Teresa is sort of a "Santa Lucia" inversed. I mean "in verse." Retardantly vigorous verse.
Richard: Good morning! Funny that you say "embarrass," because in watching the film (quite beautiful in its spare, theatrical look) there were moments in which we might as well have seen the sisters as lunatics, even disgusting/revolting at times. Their world, their minds truly felt like a place almost completely divorced from mine. Their "theology" certainly is. But then, the devotion the Little Flower inspires is nothing new to me in my own Marian bliss.
Teresa: I'm glad you tesseracted on into Muravia. As much as I enjoy the writing and posting, the completion for me is in the dialogue around the hearths in all our little huts.
Ah, San, you consummate punster, you.
the flip side of bliss: I work as a community organizer, and that often takes me to churches to meet with pastors/congregations. I recently visited Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. Parking my car I wondered what I would be like if every day I showed up for work at at place named Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. Ah, but Marian bliss - Our Lady of the Americas - Amen! And, do you know the prayer, The Memorare of St. Bernard? A rhythmic gem.
Richard: I know the prayer now; thank you for pointing me the way. May all the Ladies guide you.
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