Every Sunday we see them
walking down the aisle
bent and hobbled.
An elderly man leads
a wizened old woman.
“Here I am, Lord, if you need me,”
Tottering along behind,
the gray-haired son, head down,
slouched, uneven gait, slightly rumpled.
“It is well with my soul.”
They enter the pew, bow their heads in prayer.
The son rocks to-and-fro in a steady rhythm
“As the Father has loved me so I have loved you.”
Mass over, the family files out of the pew,
out of church, silent, they speak to no one
as the choir sings,
“’I love you, you are Mine’, says the Lord.”
Poetry above by Pat Kopanda, photography below by Frank Hubeny.
Linked to dVerse Open Link Night.
Cornfield During Winter