The white dove beams
at the back of the country church
glass wings gleam in the sun
as the holy spirit pours light
on the sacred sight of Lady,
the old black and white dog
who waddles over and washes my feet with her tongue-
like Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.
I fall in love with the Minister who gives words of thanks
to John for making the best coffee after the service-
like St. John the Apostle serving all of his people.
I feel the warmth of handmade quilts on barren wood walls,
the mystery of faith expanding- like the fabric on St. Brigid’s cloak.
And I wonder if the dove encased in Bohemian glass
at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome weeps with joy-
knowing I have experienced the Divine in Lefroy.