Time to change the subject. Let’s talk about happy things. Let me live, love, and laugh with you. That is the healing power I need.
the faith i bleed
along the path of oblivion where fallen angels dare not cross I was drenched in loneliness thirsting for her love suffocating in darkness I inhaled her words her poetry became my gospel unkissed lips my sin she is my religion a temple of metaphors the reason I breathe she is the great resuscitator restoring the faith I bleed
bless the morning sun
that warms your soft cheek
the syntax of your happiness
the affectionate words
that I never dared to speak
tonight, I quietly whisper
a hymn that I once knew
before the altar of your words
I kneel and pray for you
Several years ago, my friend Ramon bought land on a hillptop near the beach. He built a large villa for his family. (This is his view).
There on the side deck, we drink wine and Presidente beer, playing dominoes until all hours of the night. We talk about sports, politics, philosphy, and our favorite subject – women. Last year he told me he wanted to build a small church near the villa. I volunteered to help out. (I had my own ideas of construction in mind).
We built the tiny church during my February/March vacation earlier this year. I laiud blocks, plastered, and mixed concrete. The painting and final touches were completed after I returned to the United States.
The church’s inauguation was this past Saturday. Over 200 persons stood outside the church for a mass and celebration (in blistering 100+ degrees heat). It is the only church in the beach community.
The tiny church only has seating room for 18 persons. It is not the size of the church that mattered. We knew the community would never fit there. It is what it represents.
If I don’t accomplish anything in my life, I know I helped create a little positive place of hope in a corner of the world. And honestly, that is enough for me.
I will let you know of my own construction project in a future post.
Last week, my dear friend G. of Short Prose challenged me with the prompt of using the word “confession.” When you have a moment, please read her beautiful poetry and/or wonderful excerpts of her manuscript Glass Lovers.
Here is my submission…..(of course it’s about love, when isn’t it?)
my confession
.
Blessed are those
who read your poems
For I am one of those
who was baptized
in the cathedral
of your words
You rescued me
from the apocalypse
resurrected me
from the dead
Now I give you my confession
etched in stone
Adoring your poetry
is my penance
Loving you in silence
is my sin