Short Haint Poems

I stand here, a plaster saint,
Somewhere else, I'd be a haint,
A ghost of a distant century,
But I'm a symbol of Christianity,
Or of another faith, you see,
People come to worship with me,
I present to them a gift of faith,
All who pray to be blessed by grace,
No sacred space is ever empty,
The divine is here with you and me,
We're all part of this mystery............

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