The Cathedral


The Light shone through the Cathedral
Amidst the chattering of the crowds
It came in through the stained-glass window
Where the Saints and Kings were stood.
It stilled the mind and calmed the heart
As the lit candles burned
Sending their owners’ prayers
To where they would.

The crowds were divided by origin and motive
Some were just there just to look
Others were tourists on their Life’s way
Not seeing the homeless or beggars by the door
Eating their sandwiches with downcast eyes
Fervently seeking somewhere to hide
Their gaze, and thereby their state
Of being.

The lookers and the tourists kept up the chatter
As the lone readers of that Book
Remained still consumed with the reading
Quietly devouring, needingly pleadingly
The words that might allay their fears;
Taking the Light for granted
As a means to an end
Not the answer to their prayers.

No one was kneeling. None singing.
Many were strolling around curiously
Curious as in a Department Store
Where the goods on display elicit longing.
Some stood silently as if waiting
-Expecting Hoping Wondering-
For the cataclysm of a caved-in roof
Or the collapse of a building.


The Light shone through the Cathedral
By way of the stained-glass
Where the Saints and Kings were stood
Filling the void, the cavity
With something more than mere mortality
Not disturbing Man in the search
For what could not be grasped,
But only apprehended.


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