Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Stainglass Conversations

waiting for the tolling bell
stainglass resonance of brass
for cafeine to migrate from mug
to morning outlook
at the Willow Street Cafe
tide of spirit and water
bourne of fire ascending,
words like angels
between heaven and earth.

The fig tree stands in the church-yard corner
bearing Abraham's seed without number
overshadowing the town sidewalk
remarked upon by everyone.

The bell tolls and the service begins
light splashes in colors upon the congregation
then someone elderly collapses.

The service stops and everyone prays
while the ambulance comes.

Light flames up through the windows
splashing the sky.


  1. Interesting perspective on an ordinary event. I ask myself, do I see even not-so-nice things, like bodily collapses, as divine visitations?

  2. It was like the whole congregation confronted mortality and fervently prayed for their sister. Everyone was silent for at least 15 min. Not a word. I could feel the prayers rising through the stainglass windows skyward, tinting the clouds...