God Leaves After Birth Poem by James McLain

Slender beams of light enter this his darkened room
as I kneel, always silent,
always lost, sinking heart, frozen then an alter boy.


Tortured forms wrought in staned colored panes of glass,
dust dances in the air, as I once did.
His open hand as I'm stretched out,
an image forms in my mind of God, as a little child a boy.
His eye's penetrating into my hidden secret place.


His thinking is seen like a reflection on a lover's face.

I raise my head, understanding now, defying the obvious
to this his one last final stand.
A penal legal interest was his fate that lay ahead.