I,
not by brooding day,
make a dream.
Shadows –
What do we pray for?
What do we respect?
Pause –
Cry not, nor remember
fading prints and glory’s favor.
Silence –
Bury my soul God
deep within your bosom.
And if not
let it then but for a moment
wander.
Amid these stones.
(Saint John Divine)
He saw the Vision!
This place is aptly named.
From which direction
will the horsemen ride?
Which wind will help
scatter this mortal pride?
To understand
a thousand mysteries
passed death.
An end
to all the madness.
To bury the past
as best the past
can be buried.
With only occasional hauntings
to echo through
the cathedral spaces
of my mind.
-
6-7-80
