OUR LADY’S TRIUMPH

by Marilyn Peretti

Hot orange flame flew up 

melting lead and ancient trees

breaking hearts of Paris.

For eight hundred years

old oaks from vanished forests

served as roof timbers

but no longer able to withstand

the fires of hell, crumbled

to charred matchsticks, as

Our Lady’s backbone,

the vulnerable ridge pole,

tumbled into the holy nave.

                    • • •

A thin white thread 

of smoke rising at the Vatican

signals something new.

The disastrous stream of white smoke,

which roared rapidly to black

then to tongues of fire,

called out every craftsman from

the woodwork, their myriad of skills

rebuilding one great Cathedral,

now signaling Our Lady’s glory.

This poem was written in anguish at the time of the horrendous fire in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, but has been modified to celebrate the gallant efforts of dedicated Parisians who carefully rebuilt their cherished centerpiece. Marilyn Woerner Peretti, from Chicago area, is Pushcart nominee, and celebrant of this French achievement! She happily recalls her visit to Paris and tour through this elegant structure.

DON’T MOURN THE THORNS

by Corey Weinstein

Did you smile, even laugh aloud,

A smirk tumbling out of simmering glee?

Yes I was among the first 26,743,226

to feel joy when Notre Dame burned,

A spire collapsed shooting fireballs

through the attic, crashing the crosses,

Yellow flames licked the towers

and tickled my giggle bone,

 

From what abominations the fire sparked?

Of what burnt and musty stench like earth

where children are buried unmarked?

Rats running from their snuggle spots,

The ancient rot to their liking,

Dirty sins in the Savior’s name purified

Plastic icons oozed and bubbled black,

and is the toxic smoke pleasing to God?

 

The grand Dame’s construction marked

two hundred years of persecution

of expulsion, return and expulsion.

Built on the bones and bank notes 

of two centuries of violation,

feeding off the destruction

and exile of the Jews.

 

I won’t be contributing to the Church

where kings were crowned,

Where the crown of thorns stands in state.

Ask me again when plans include

a health center for family planning

and care for survivors of priestly abuse.

 

My joy only muted by the despair of the faithful

and knowing the stinking thing will rise as before.

Corey Weinstein’s poetry has been published in Vistas and Byways, The New Verse News, Our California 2024, The Ekphrastic Review, Forum (City College of San Francisco), California State Poetry Society, Visitant, Abandoned Mine, Speak Poetry of San Mateo County, California State Poetry Society and Jewish Currents, and he wrote and performed a singspiel called Erased: Babi Yar, the SS and Me.  He has been an advocate for prisoner rights and founded California Prison Focus, and he led the American Public Health Association’s Prison Committee for many years. In his free time, he hosts San Francisco OLLI’s Poetry Interest Group and plays the clarinet in his local jazz band, Tandem, his synagogue choir and woodwind ensembles.

THE PROMISE OF NOTRE DAME

by Micheline Ishay

Notre Dame over Paris towered.  
Her spire inspired and empowered,           
Sheltering the beggars across time. 
Shockingly, a fire burned its spine.            
The top fell: crackling, 
Crashing, and blazing…                               
 
Such collapses come always fast,
As other tragedies of recent past.
Plagues, floods, and worsening storms. 
The plundered planet in an altered form.
Choking air, winds swirling,                        
Sweltering, drowning…
 
Wars destroy lives even faster, 
Slaughter peace-loving dancers,
Bury children under rubble,
Entrap peace in an endless tunnel. 
The music was thrilling, 
Then shooting and shrieking…
 
Their screams drowned underground, 
Lost in Pluto’s crowded underworld. 
Vile geniuses dug a cave of hell  
While humanity failed to prevail.                                                   
Wrath unleashed the dogs of war, 
Fangs flashing, growls and gore.                             
 
In the “City of Lost Children,”
Thieves stole youthful dreams
Staving off aging by any means.
Schooling generations for revenge.
In cycles of never-ending violence
Interrupted by dreadful silence.
                                                
They say miracles cannot be ignored.                    
Notre Dame is almost restored; 
Its iconic rooster found under debris,
Remade for a world to be free.
It took less than a day to crumble, 
But years for artisans to reassemble.
 
A step at a time: 
Sweating, Swearing,

Longing, Laughing, laughing… 

Micheline Ishay is Professor of International Studies and Human Rights at the Josef Korbel School of International Studies at the University of Denver. She is Director of the Center for Middle East Studies and was founding Director of the International Human Rights Program. She is the author of half a dozen of books, including Internationalism and Its Betrayal (University of Minnesota Press, 1995), The Nationalism Reader (Humanities Press, 1995; Prometheus, 1999), and The Levant Express: The Arab Uprisings, Human Rights, and the Future of the Middle East (Yale University Press, 2019). Her books, The History of Human Rights: From Ancient Times to the Globalization Era (2004, 2008) and The Human Rights Reader: Major Political Essays, Speeches, and Documents from Ancient Times to the Present (1997, 2008, 2022) have been translated into multiple languages and published in second or third editions.