Heave against the large wooden door
Dim and cool with its incense.
Catch the candles flickering glow
Burning for whom, I know not.
Gaze at the ceiling of painted faces,
With bishops, a priest and a nun.
A mosaic of a man on the cross on the wall
With Saints, of whom, I know not.
A woman’s murmur her lips barely move,
From behind me her head scarved and bowed.
Ignoring the snarl of the cars and the trucks
On their way somewhere, I know not.
Another bends to light her candle
Shoulders upright with hope
And stops before him to pray for herself
Or for others, whom I know not.
The old lady shuffles and squints up at me,
Sadness yet life on her face.
She crosses herself and rests on the pew,
To contemplate what, I know not.
The solitude and peace spread its respect
Inside the cavernous space.
The light from the sun twinkles its message
From somewhere beyond, I know not.