Faith

Midnight Mass; St. John’s

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Church on Christmas Eve

Experience of spirit

Secular delight

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Candles flickering

Stirred by one communal breath

Casting bright shadows

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The choir whispering

Mournful cadenced melodies

That bless the silence

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Drunken folk giggling

Respectfully hiccupping

Noisy chundering

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Strange and precious faith

The uninitiated

Wary, questioning

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Through agnostic eyes

Such peculiar mystery

Custom, novelty

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The truth hides in love

Ancient priests and children know

Its simplicity

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The door is opened

Out in to the night The Word

Flies on sacred wings

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Midnight Mass; the light

In darkness comprehending

Emptiness with joy

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by Gail

Holding Your Nerve

Well, knock me right down with a feather
It’s true that some faith in whatever
And holding one’s nerve under fire
Can result in the things we require
Being sent to us served on a plate
By God, chance or synchronous fate

So, cross fingers or whisper a prayer
Take small practical steps up the stair
Fret ye not and have hope for the best
And watch time take good care of the rest
Who can say what the future will bring
When we wait for fat ladies to sing

by Gail