Gloria In Profundis

I sensed it in the rock compressed a thousand feet below. I saw it in the cardboard box where some humanity must breathe the stench of garbage that was once inside. I heard it flung across the aisle in antiphon to angel choirs who tend to chant rom pannacles I cannot touch. It sang in winds that moan around the corners of the bar where dead men go to stare at life again, or hope to... glowed in execution chambers as the light dimmed one last time. It showed in the exuberance of little men in trees-- then within the fires of Hiroshima when they took away the sun. I think resplendance is not privy to the heavenly hosts who woke the shepherds one dark night. I'm told it bursts out unannounced among the handicapped, the hopeless, and the one who understands their plight. Perhaps I too, shall see it close at hand, for there in Bethlehem's stark cave is all the glory I can stand. ~ This poem perhaps should be submitted at Christmas time, but I share it now as a milestone in the evolution of my spiritual thought. I wrote it some time ago. Certainly, I have since left the large portion of my religious faith behind, but it marks a takeoff point in my constant quest for truth. While its literal references are a thing of the past for me. the luster of the experience is not.