your eyes from man and showing them only to God.
Massgoers pass by and peek peripherally
at you, an unfamiliar man
strewn reverse-prostrate across mahogany slabs.
Your arms are folded across your chest
like you're preparing
to be shot from a carnival cannon.
Save us, Lord.
Save us from the cold.
you are being smiled upon.
The sun is shining through
the roof and ceiling and
bathing your face in light.
There is something above you and it grins.
let them do as they will.
let them justify their darkness
and let them twist your light,
for light it will remain,
unchanged as gravity.
echoes of prayers bounce like racquetballs
from stained glass to hardwood floor to pulpit
they drip back into your ears and
coat the back of your eyes
and the insides of the mornings and the mournings
let them take my love, Lord.
let them have it and let it be something to them
let it send the sun through the shades and hold them through the night
let my warmth keep them.
I cannot fix them.
I cannot make them what they are not.
I cannot choose the paths they take
and I will no longer try.
they have lost their light.
so let mine so shine
as to keep them from the dark.
even from miles away
let them see their steps and place their paces
by the glow of my dreams
and the whispers and willingness that I'll hold--
what's that music?
there are bells
ringing from the sky,
scaring away pigeons and loneliness
as everyone knows
you're never alone
when you can hear the bells.
everyone gets to be an angel
when they're under the light.