I watch the flames
consume the historic cathedral
and wander thru the sanctuaries
of all those churches in my past,
the color of the walls, the velvet cushions,
worn wooden pews,
the cross or crucifix or
baptism pool behind the Madonna blue curtain.
Jesus walked into the room
and in his fury, turned the tables.
He cursed the fig tree til it withered,
The spire falls, its cross held high till
consumed in destruction and purifying flame.
He foresaw the destruction of the temple,
David’s temple, Soloman’s temple,
the jewel of the faith.
A reckoning is coming in this Holy Week
Good Friday looms in the shadow
I don’t know what any of this means.
I just ask for mercy
I just ask for faith
I just ask