I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany,but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.
A poem is a passionate prayer of song
with blessings from and for the faithful All,
an innocent, sacramental creation
remembering ancient tradition,
a gift of praise at an invisible altar,
and a lone priestly vision embraced
by sacred silence,
seeking forever the eternal unknown.