Eversince a child
I have been fascinated by
The Sacred Font at the Church door;
Of marble it is, so white and
So cool bearing the blessed
Holy water which we
Use to cross ourselves before
Walking to the pew.
The Font always the first we greet
And the last we would see at mass.
Somehow, always I am struck
By a forlorn feeling as
We dab into it for the water
To cross ourselves to leave.
The little Sacred Font
That bids us welcome and goodbye at mass.
The font that seems to hold
Not only water but the presence of God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem