In continuing to move through Holy Week, I am posting the first poem I thought of when I was contemplating what poems I was going to put forward during Holy Week, this is the first poem that came to mind. This a poem that’s been with me a long time. I wrote it so long ago, I’m not even so sure how old I was when I wrote it. Anyway, it’s stuck with me for a while. There’s something about it that feels ‘safe’ to me. I hope you enjoy the same feeling when you read it.
Amen to the city, the vertebrae of buildings
constructing the backbone that holds up the sky.
Amen, we said, turning our backs to the culture of size,
bedazzled by the way the winds tucked itself in our ears.
Amen, we said, in the nude
language of laughter as we broke the seal
Of the Amen, we held
the attraction of feeling each other's shiny rosary bead likeness.
Amen, to the long drunken walk home
where we are animals less tamed to the idea of the eternal.
Amen, to old churches passed.
Amen, to old Gods.
Amen, to the rocky path and the old crow
to the creak in the abandoned church door that echoed what in our hearts.
Amen, to the darkness inside the chapel.
To the first sound made when your finger touched the dusty organ.
Amen, to the secrecy and the tune of Heart and Soul
companions in the familiarity of their sound.
Amen, to the window I faced alone
staring out in the great open world.
Amen, to your arms finding my waist
reminding me there are small places in the vastness of grace.