Means of Grace
Ecumenical Travels
Tag: Poetry
This Light was then
From one source, each lamp is lit. Reflecting their time, archaic, but now. The wear of life, which never fit, The lights attire, the dark disavow. Photo of Apt near Trevi Fountain, Rome, Italy
It was what was meant
I can trace my lineage. It wasn’t erased. When they tried, they didn’t miss what they lost. Photo at Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore
Where is my sanctuary?
For a tent was set up. The first part: a lamp stand, table, and the bread of the Presence. This was called the Holy Place. (Heb 9:2) Then, my heart in fear, rage, and indifference. These two have to mix well. Photo at St Anthony’s Church… Continue Reading “Where is my sanctuary?”
It was given
A clarion call with an angelic being proclaiming. The raised banner and the horses on lifted legs. So the sky, the earth, and all that filled them were compelled. But it’s all easier to see when you are on the outside of the picture.… Continue Reading “It was given”
The soil portends
If I were at the beginning, I could see how the road led me here. I could follow the flow of the oil of gladness and remain on portending soil. Photo from Santa Maria in Trastevere The Latin means (“In this, the first shrine… Continue Reading “The soil portends”
et egredietur virga de radice iesse
(and there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse) New birth taunts like an illusion. Where does it come forth? I waited patiently at the mouth of many places. I may have been changed. But I had too much sameness to… Continue Reading “et egredietur virga de radice iesse”
But who’s in charge of the naughty list now? My turn!
Someone made a list and checked it once Or wrote decrees in pencil. I’ve not had a chance to be despot with mandates inferential. Photo of the Basilica of Paul Outside the Wall
Means of Grace 