I happened into the cathedral downtown
and heard serious, ancient song in Latin
or Greek. Wonderfully, the words had no
meaning but the weight the voices carried,
the search their eyes revealed.
I was happy to receive no message
so beautifully.
It made me want to whittle new myths
for our children’s children
to lose their way by.
Finding is never as urgent
as needing to look.
This excerpt is from my book of poems in progress, The Slow Arm of All That Matters.
Photo credit: Chris Biron
