Wednesday, March 16, 2016

The Joy of My Youth

The morning is cold,
the moon slung low
lighting the snow
iridescently blue

In the dark, glowing church
red votives flame
throw bright prayers
to the ceiling

Introibo ad altare Dei,
The old priest intones
“I will go
to the alter of God”

and I quickly recite
Ad Deum qui laetificat
juventutem meam

“To God,
the joy of my youth.”

The church is empty,
but still we go on,
chanting the ancient love-songs

to the One who lives
in the flickering flame

to the One who rises
in ascending incense

and hears our words
and becomes them.