my heart lusts for the beauty of the profane
my soul stirs with the splendor of the sacred
a dichotomy born of sense and faith
I am torn between
the worldly and the spiritual
between the vulgar and the holy
between feeling with my fingertips, the gentle curve
of a woman’s hip as she is lying on her side
and becoming lost in the folds of Mary’s robe
in a sculpture of the Madonna and Child
between the burnished copper color and
burnt-caramel aroma of a fine whisky
and the boundless love within the flaming, sacred heart
between a prime rib-eye steak charred rare
and the wafer and wine, transformed into body and blood
between being absorbed within a mesmerizing,
flashing digital world and the simple, silver crucifix
mounted next to the childhood pictures of our dead parents
between the selfishness within, an unsatisfied craving for more
and a muted prayer to be accepted as we are
between our marriage vows, children, prayer,
rivers, trees, precious life - all are sacred
and our everyday lives, eating, drinking,
lovemaking, being who we are - all are profane
we are children of a God who has given us
everything we know and want, but don’t understand
and so, I am a muddled and confused human
who is caught between greed and charity,
desire and reverence, earth and heaven,
between concealment and confession.
After retiring recently, Mark James Trisko heard his muses yelling loudly in the night begging him to let their voices be heard. His work has appeared / is scheduled to appear in Valiant Scribe Literary Journal, Spirit Fire Review, Amethyst Review, and Down in the Dirt. He currently lives in Minnesota, with his beautiful spouse of 47 years, four wonderful children and eight above-normal grandchildren.
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