Presence Beyond My Mind
A Sistine Chapel lies outside our house,
a cellar used by former runaways.
Recalling stories from our grandpa Joe,
remember how he always kept a horse
to transport couples found in hiding there.
The ceiling shelves deflect a spotlight's eye
from secret spots where common folk once hid.
Consider how he felt, my grandpa Joe,
his future jeopardized within our town.
Even with the best of good intentions,
slave owners' law - greater than freedom's law.
My grandpa kept the ceiling stocked with food
for needy refugees to take their fill
in building strength to last their journey through.
Sometimes when I am zapped and cannot cope
I am compelled to grab a light and go
descending on this niche of grace and peace.
A ceiling with more beauty is not found
than grandpa's Sistine Chapel underground.
written 03-01-2018
contest: Eight Word Challenge - 24 lines maximum by Robert Haigh
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