The Centre Holds Poem by Juana Cruz

The Centre
Cannot hold
Some voice said
Long ago
I ask now
Is it so?

We fall
And doubt our faith
Not enough love
To hold
Us up
Even for a while
Until the day of Christ.

Behold
He is the Centre
That holds
He's the Falconer
That calls.

To Him souls come
Together All
For they know that
No one cares
Only He
Who died for me.

I call
But there's no response
Everyone's out
Or simply stoned
My skinned knees
Bleed as I see
My own blood turned—
Turned Against me

Lonely and depressed we search
Among the multitude of the Grand Church
Where the religious
But not the Spiritual
In pomp Parade.

My insides twist
And my head spins.

Strange thoughts like smoke curls
Spirally swirl and fill
My head.

I thirst
For the arm of a friend
To steady me
But I'm alone

What demon? What angel?
Lean on a woman's soul
Lock her in a twilight zone
And Make her forget to
Remember that
The Centre holds.