Old Cathedral
A POEM
This granite faith was pressed against the sky
And, wonder, stood alone;
The truth of God translated for the eye,
A massive, silent prayer in stone.
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Pietà
“Does the darkness cradle thee Than mine arms more tenderly?”
— Willa Cather
Beatitude in Blue
Enveil God’s face, winged seraphim
Before the dazzling throne:
The onyx clouds cannot hide Him
… Submitting Donation...