Inside the cathedral of self
Where stained glass
Casts patterns on the floor
I breathe in reverence and sit
In bombed out pews
Where tabernacle shines radiant in the ventricles of the heart
The roof is a blue sky open to the birds and
Tumbled bricks and stone
Form a foot rest
My spiritual home
Where the cross is askew
Yet it feels more perfectly
Right
Then any Sunday attendance
I’ve ever wandered into
*Vai in pace e in luce (go in peace and light)
Header picture a little church in Silverton – from my recent postie bike adventure
