By John Lawrence Darretta - Cape Cod, Massachusetts, USA - 15 May 2016
In a corner of the church's stone roof
sun has leaked through stained glass
weaving shafts of golden gleams and silvered streaks,
brushing curves with tufts of blue, splashing emerald and rose,
where remains of pleas and praise rest in tinted shadows
under the light of heaven and hope.
Nestled in the attending ark of the dome
trembling treasures of emotion, some as ancient as the stones,
float at the vaulted edge, mixing with chanted tones,
organ bells and strains of harp, lifting with linger of incense,
bouquet of blossoms and snuff of candlewick, here and now,
but past and present, old and new.
Time and space hold no sway in the sacred canopy,
where all is hallowed hoard, reflections of confession and prayer,
impressions of hope and despair, hidden in the soft folds of light,
sparkling dust of jewels that have risen beyond the roof
to endless peace and boundless love, encased in a sacred place
and enshrined in a corner of the heart.