For Mag 269
—
Here beneath
The glow of your halo,
Mother of God,
With clasped hands
And humble spirit
I bow in supplication,
Bringing a prayer
For redemption, for
Absolution from this
Weight, this burden
Of deferred hope.

The crash of thunder,
Flash of lightning,
Fire and smoke,
Echoed across seven hills
Is etched in my memory
A callus chafed raw
By this journey,
This unceasing battle
Of Self and Spirit
Of good ambushed by doubt

Mother of God
If you hear, or are near
Pray for this sinner
Now and at the hour
Of escape.