I opened the heavy book
And the crescent moon
Shone in my eyes
Each time I reached
To touch the moon
It shrank until it was
The tiniest sliver of light
Floating on page 56
Next to the stars on page 57
I turned to the back of the book
To look at the index
And it read Miracles, page 102
I quickly turned the pages
To see if it were true
95, 98, 101…104
The End
I have come to bring comfort to the table
To find a table of comfort
And to be comforted.
Thousands have come before me
Searching for comfort
But comfort is hidden ‘neath a veil of sorrow
Beneath the blue waves of misery
Comfort can be found
In smoky rooms of angst and heartache
Tables are laden with comfort
I have come for the table of comfort
Burdened with the woes of our fathers
The table creaks and moans with comfort
Each person sits comfortably at the table
One after another reach out for comfort
And the table gives comfort to all
Both the impatient and the patient are comforted
Even when the table is cleared of comfort
Still there is comfort for everyone
Where comfort has not been found before
I have not come to comfort anyone
Only to find comfort for myself
When I find comfort I will be
Wrapped in a blanket of comfort
Comfortable at last in the room of comfort
Only then will I offer comfort
To the silent bystander who stands by
And pleads for comfort from me
His supplication has been heard
And he will not leave uncomforted.
Passage to the dark cathedral
priests disguised
as dancers in black masks
and lurid robes
Vanishing into the shadows
of secret chambers
love offers
suitable favors
Radiant calm
flows imperceptibly
past the quiet arbor
into the vast unknown
