For all the saints

Whom no one thought to name

No litany of bliss

For their praise proclaims


For the homely saints

No halo aglow

Favored by the Lord

But to us so so


For the ruined saints

Who craved no boardroom glee

But offered their arms

And gave without fee


For the tattered saints

Who found no rest at home

But served in patient woe

And shrank in hearts alone


For the silent saints

Captured by their pain

Offering it to Him

For salvationís gain


For the saint unseen

By power or by peer

The crownless heir of love

Raised on Christís bier


The lumpen hump of flesh

Draped across bench

Whose spit is his smile

And bouquet his stench


For the blithering saint

Whose strings of words bemuse

His blank stare runs counter

To the civil use


For the stunted saints

No worldly stature given

Graced by a shrug

And through neglect shriven


For the hidden saints

Caught in His eye

Reflections of Godís love

In ordinary guise


The humble face of saints


Lies in the dust

By Him only prized


For these great saints

We have yet to know

Celebrate today!

Feast on crow.



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