For Tom O'Rourke

At Villanova University on Tuesday evening, January 30, 2001, listening to Dan Berrigan, my mind was on Tom O'Rourke and I threw a few words together. . . . Nine hours later Tom died. A man of peace.

Its hard to think of it
Tom O'Rourke sick to death
As to hear them tell the story long ago
That Jesus Christ the healing one
The hands, the eyes, the words
All healed. The threads he wore
Kissed the woman's hidden wound
And she was well.
Then He, Himself, wounded once and worn down
Sick, bloodied on the ground. Oh, No!
And Tom, too, that wholesome man
Happy, healthy, in mind, in memory
In attitude of heart, in the focus of his days
In grace and good humor, in every way
Reaching graciously over bruised reeds
To touch that infected sore he saw
In slum streets and death rows
And all the violent manufacture for the war.
Did his best to cleanse
With the pure cotton wool of himself
(No steel wool to scrape the evil out) 
Soaked now like Jesus was
To heal the whole bloody thing.

Michael Doyle

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