The Walk

A tapping on the sacred steps echoes my footfalls. The preternatural essence eschews through the opening door as I try not to creep inside. Leaving no trace of sound as I enter. Darkness beat back solely by candlelight, as colored stained glass dusk light shrouds this hallowed hall. From the other end, a resonance enchants my ears, and wraps my voice to join, but softly. A graven seraph reverently uplifts a vessel of water. I dip two fingers twice and anoint myself, my eyes never falling from the dolorous eyes of my Lord. Near my right, Mary offers candles for my offerings and prayers. I light two, reach into my long coat for change. “In bona fide.” I recant. The tiny flames flicker to life, for my mother, one. My beloved the latter. I kneel there too pained to cry but not to pray. Resting one hand softly on my Lady’s hand, I kiss it gently.
“For guidance and strength.” I utter, half to myself. I then sit in that place awhile, until my faith will carry me away again, until I can walk through Hell again. Touching the cold medal against my chest between my finger and thumb. I implore, “Ready now, old friend?” Patting Michael like an old war buddy. Rising now to walk these breezy cold sidewalks back to my beloved’s arms. With only an angel to carry me away. The path before me, stretching toward home before my weary feet. Softly I recall, “May the Saints welcome you at the gate, Lord Jesu open your arms, and may the Devil’s watch be five minutes late. ” I smiled as I turned away.

You may also like...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *