Saturday, November 17, 2007


I am my own god
and therefore the only truth.
So, here it seems as though
the holy life is one alone.
I look up to
the late fall sky
(the mirrored pond
placid now, rests
among the buildings high)
and see my face
smile to the sky-
as-sea, -as-mirror
or -as-clouds.
A window bright
with sun and dust
reflects my God as
pure and just
and right.
The holiest nights I am alone
with saints: appendages all my own,
and light a candle- vigil's smoke
now darkens holy Narcissus' home.