And I cried out
and no matter
how loud I sobbed
it seemed no one heard me
or even cared at all.
So I found my own cathedral
to echo my words into:
moss covered walls,
lizards speaking in tongues,
butterflies whispering mantras,
ivy twisted around the communion table,
forest sacred space,
and those crumbling walls sang back to me
and it resonated loud and clear.
Someone is always willing to listen
even if it’s just stained glass.
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