I searched in the bright sunlight
that bathed the mountain top, in
shadowed canyons and across meadows
where yellow wildflowers covered rich earth
and timid deer watched from clusters of
proud pines.
I bowed before a pristine altar from which tall,
white candles cast long shadows across the
Cathedral\'s stone floor, listened as the echo of
two hundred organ pipes filled the almost
empty nave with painfully beautiful sound.
A weary priest stepped, rather reluctantly, into an
elevated pulpit, cleared his throat and spoke
words of blessing not to a thousand, but to
fifty scattered listeners. The passion of praise
languished in an unraveling certainty.
The assumptions of yesterday are the wrong
tokens for this ride. This is a one-way trip.
Transformation is in the travel. Don\'t buy a
round-trip ticket. Meeting Mystery happens
but in ever changing zip codes.
A book cannot convey it. A building cannot
contain it. Words fill the air with heat and
hubris. Blaming is a child\'s game. Wishing
won\'t work.
And that leaves us with what? Ticket, please.