Accustomed to lonely
negotiation of dark passageways
without luxury of light,
I will see my way
out of this

if

I can find
will to persevere,
to live again off what scraps
of love that can be found to feed, nourish
withering, sun-starved soul.

Safe place to be – ripped from

beneath me with apparent jubilee;
congregation stands to sing,
bring grace offering
to altar

then

they feel fine
blessed by grace divine;
bathed in holy light of community
they grow strong
together.