I grounded my plane
To investigate the sound
Of sheer silence
Ahhh, pure compassion
Unfasten the seatbelt
Stretch out my legs
I invoke my ears
To smell the air
And hail my landing
The Pope arrived
Offering reverence
With a rosary and a bowl of grapes
A manuscript
Beneath his fingernails
Was pleasantly etched
And indescribably faint precept
Left so apparent on my forehead
Where he touched it
There I planted a tree
On that day to remember
What a comfortable seat
The soil can be
When tilled in consecutive
Rows to resemble
An earthly rendition
Of neatly lined pews
In the west the sunset
Like a prophets consent
This is a hymn
Of convalescent descent
One solitary moment
Crowned round
Noble unions breadth
A place of safety robed
In stoic separateness
© GÄ
Poétique 