Poems
of Father Santan Pinto, SOLT
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The
Silent Teacher (click here to
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His
reputation spread wide through the land,
Students few one could count on a hand.
Mysterious was he, no picture traced his face,
How could one find him, one without a trace?
To the few who chanced to pass him bye,
Their one remembrance was his eye.
He
invited the stranger into his home,
The look was the door the quiet tone.
No one found him he sought out his student,
He watched a distance waiting for the moment.
The chimes of the river spoke many lessons
Eager learners passed by these seasons!
To
be oneself is what I can make you he say,
You are the teacher I can only show the way.
If words and moves I showed constantly,
You would learn well but soon distantly.
He spoke without words and others did listen
His life was a sermon his silence a garden!
I
awoke, hearing a shrill distant cry;
Or was that a warning I should just pass by?
Who could have thought that fate would lead?
The judge sentenced me life, I tried in vain to plead.
The
loneliness, the distance, yes images tearing my mind;
How many hours tormented yet strangely to find,
Shadows of tomorrow, broken promises I left behind
She was my wife, my friend and always kind.
How
could those years melt like the snow on the slope?
So many ventured to reach me, it was their last hope.
Yet, I chose to run away from reality and hide I did
From all who cared, sought to help, not just in deed.
The
day came when my name was called, the door rang loud;
My heart leaped with expectation, light peeking through
the cloud.
She stood there like an angel, the light behind breaking
into a stream
I heard my child calling me, or was that just a dream?
Moments
of happiness fly past as the cool breeze of the night;
Darkness overshadows those faces which once were bright.
Days of waiting turn into months and years;
Death's cruel hand wipes unwipeable tears.
The dawn's measured arrival is not alarming,
Life's every breath remembered, keeps forever crawling.
That
one light, far distant, and yet to spring;
Renders new courage for travelers to begin.
Still in the darkness, every leaf glitters,
Yet one more chance 'fore it fritters.
Never-ending storms and roads to greet,
That last gift, for some to meet.
Endless
searching and waiting often endure,
Those strong, for life's challenging venture.
As time turned its leaf of bitter sorrow,
The passer by could he find a tomorrow?
Yes, lone to the end will find a friend,
Bringing death's sting to an unreachable end.
O
how distant are the thoughts of a dreamer,
Like waves caressing the shores of summer.
Yesterdays grow into morrows of memories,
The leaves fall into heaps of worries.
Reflections
of the future like autumn leaves,
Gathered in an album heaps under trees.
Those that turn and return for more,
Shadows of yesteryears dance afloor!
The
cold nights of winter huddled together
Conversations of silence floating a feather
The hush of snow whispering in the distance
The crackling of ice friendly that instance.
Life
shared and cared newness to begin
Concerns and thoughtfulness the wings of spring
Words written or spoken reflect within
The chimes of the mind blowing in the wind
In
the depths of silence my soul longs for you my Master,
Time clouds my understanding as I seek and ponder.
Your breath changed my nothingness into existence;
When in eternity I stood in your presence.
Your
hidden counsels buried in a field of ventures,
Search must I lest succumb to longing torturous.
You called me Master though I head it years later;
Arrogance to please others caused me often to falter.
Through
seasons of life I journeyed a pilgrim,
Knowing you are the end and the beginning.
Many spoke and sought my friendship, I must contend.
None matched you Master; you called me your friend!
My
mother hesitated for her only son was I,
How could I ever leave the one I loved, I cry.
You were there my Master holding me in your arm,
Your shadow like eagles wings brought me calm.
When
you spoke your words sank deep into my heart,
I failed to understand Master why many stayed apart.
You were gentle yet firm as you taught me to live,
The Bread of life and your Word you daily give.
My
innocence caused me to doubt you my Master, You taught
me to trust, to forgive, enjoy laughter!
I could never bear to be separated from you for long;
Then when all was still I heard the heavenly song.
The
words, the tune, the melody haunted my being,
In your home at Nazareth I heard your Mother sing.
Through endless ages Master your call is sung;
In every heart that worships your will is done!
I
traversed many a mile as you lead me my Father,
Jesus, my Master, my friend and my brother.
O Spirit you are truly my constant counselor,
My heart rejoices, you gave me Mary as Mother!
Many
children you have entrusted to my care,
They are yours Master protect them from the snare;
Your graces, gifts, and blessings freely become,
That assurance when at last you call me home!
I looked at the path that lay ahead
Strewn with thorns was my brokenness
The many hurts and rejection shrouded with fear
Hopelessness magnified hidden tears
Children passed by the garden of life
Picking flowers they shouted with glee
My life was different so many thorns
Why was my world so different, so cold?
Questions were many no where to hide
Glistering dew lay on meadows of time
Sheets of memories turned with the tide
Some distant voice I heard was mine
As if awakening from an unending dream
No radar stirred my ship through the storm
The winter of yesterdays gave birth to gloom
Spring echoed promises as lights shone forth
It took me time to reach out of myself
Stop feeling sorry for the flowers dead
Now bud forth through the thorns of life
New flowers that quenched my thirst
Can you see beauty hidden in sorrow?
Birth pangs, death, decay, loss or failure?
Purpose find not the wheels of uselessness
Could some kindness reveal blessedness?
So if ever you journey the path of life
Find thorns strewn and you in pain
Beyond the dark cloud hide showers
Wait, you'll see thorns turned to flowers!
In the twilight of early morn, the birds happily chirp along.
The stillness of the fog, like gentle breath - a wordless song.
A flock of ducks glides gently by over wrinkled waters;
Heavenly breeze descending, awakening deep slumber.
She rocks her child across her lap, the recurring sighs of time;
It's not to sleep, the waves creep - it's a melody, a chime.
The child at the breast caresses warmly, a smile on the face;
She continually gives as a mother, effort without a trace.
In the noon, stillness gives way to the wind, the trees join in;
Children splashing water as high above the hawk patiently waiting.
They sing and make merry the songs they express;
She accompanies them with silent sounds, few to impress.
The Sunset looks tenderly on the flickering of her dress;
The many shadows of yesteryears her shores caress.
She too giggles as the fish swim in the gently flow;
Man steers his boat as the evening lights glow.
It's night, for all creation in silent darkness sleeps;
The Moonlight reveals the lady her chores to keep.
The fire burns in the bosom of her memories;
Tiredness beckons home as the traveler hurries!
They call her lady, for she's always dressed in a gown;
Some may call her arrogant, on her face a frown?
For me she is a silent companion one would seldom find;
The lady of the lake, a friend - yes, she's always kind!
Lake Nantahala: Cherokee word that means, "The Land of many uses".
August 23, 2005
The great ones make their presence known
Pathways welcome with grandeur strewn
Extensive preparations line up every street
Eager eyes straining the famous to greet!
The red carpet welcome is no stranger to the great
Little ones seldom enter a rich man’s gate
How easily the proud misled by this expression
Though hearts remain cold devoid of affection!
What return can I offer thee Master?
You taught me to love and call thee Father!
There’s a song in my mind silence renders
A tune my being often ponders.
My desires have only thee to aspire
Emotions buried in every desire
Yet imaginations beautify the wings of time
You call me by name you say I am thine
Your Son climbs the altar of thanksgiving,
In humble submission my pride dying
Accept this desire burning like incense
Joining the company of saints in thy presence!
I paint with my blood, a red carpet welcome!
A thousand kisses like rose petals to adorn.
O Divine child my Master, tread gently from above
A carpet weaved from the fibers of my heart – the carpet of love!
(Easter Monday, April 17, 2006)
