Wicked reflections in the mirrors of mind and men.
Decrepit child, collapse on the Font.
And may living waters reach your gullet through your pores.
And may the ridges of the Rock bring comfort to your bones.
Do you see it, child?
You seek covering, you need covenant.
You perceive suffering, you need your Savior.
You frolick in Gehenna,
now come to its end,
leap on the Cornerstone,
and be s h a t t e r e d.
And may the misty remnants of your tears
be life for the flowers.
And may you never be seen
in this place again.
Amen.
~
The creaking of the movement in the stained-glass windows.
The even, ever flow of the blood of the Lamb.
The stifled breath of them without a ram in the thicket.
The arms of a father pulling from a well that has not sprung in many years.
The watery eyes of a child looking for... something. Anything.
Where are You, Lord?