Life in Ordinary Time

My days are ordinary now,
but they weren’t anything close
to that ideal at the time you
extended your hand.

We laughed at family
gatherings, just you and I–
knowing we were being bad,
which made it even funnier,
you being holy and all,
and me, a lowly sinner.

But you never saw me that way.
You were more Glastonbury
than Dublin,
More Yeats than Pope.

There are many aspects of life
that are still ordinary –

The sparrow’s call in
spring time,
the ball of fire
we call the sun
almost bouncing.

The days come and go–
Just like that.
I’m used to that idea.

It’s just you,
being gone
that will never feel ordinary.

©  Virgina Galfo

Note: My friend, Father Patrick Rice earned his doctoral degrees in theology and poetry from Fordham University in New York City. He was a priest at St. Thomas Moore in Convent Station, NJ, from 1974-1979; Holy Spirit Church from 1979-1994; St. Francis de Sales Church in Vernon, NJ, from 1994-1997; St. Catherine of Siena, Mountain Lakes, NJ, from 1997-2009 and St. Kateri Tekakwitha in Sparta, NJ, from 2009 until his death. He was buried in Ireland. His spirit, however, remains alive and above ground in the hearts of all who knew and loved him. VG