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