Eucharistic Air

 

                                                         It was like a church to me.

                                                         I entered it on soft foot, . . .

                                                         It was quiet.

                                                         What God was there made himself felt,

                                                         Not listened to, in clean colours

                                                         That brought a moistening of the eye . . .

                                                         I walked on,

                                                         Simple and poor, while the air crumbled

                                                         And broke on me generously as bread.

                                                         R.S. Thomas

                                   Photo: Sunrise from my front yard, Fort Collins, CO, January 3, 2012