My friend told me today about the
stunning beauty of hymn and prayer,
liturgy and the soaring power of words.
I could think only of a small yellow bird
whose eyes penetrated the curiosity of my soul.
Eucharist, the taste of bread and wine.
Eucharist, the smell of the lemon tree
in my backyard.
Stole and robe, cross and crown.
The flowing green of a mountain forest,
a carpet of red and gold leaves returning
to the earth.
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes.
Stones concealing the caverns of the dead.
The first cry of life. The last tear shed.
Vacant tombs that hold only the laughter of life.
What is sacred?
What is secular?
Does it matter?
Sonoran Desert Writer 