Old Churches In Midwinter Poem by Tony Noon
Old Churches In Midwinter
Light Holes.
Our galaxies of being swirl
and swing around them
like moths, sucked in
when night is darkest.
Faith is made here or renewed.
Left on deposit as we wind home
it accumulates, extending gravity
until an unexpected shining
calls us in.
Tony Noon
Thursday, December 26, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: faith,tradition,winter
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5/5/2024 8:24:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
