At the very least, I find solidarity
In joining myself to that vast army
That has down through the centuries hearkened
Unto the Angelus bells.
More than solidarity, communion.
(No small thing, that for which we were made)
Still, I sometimes wonder if you hear us.
I’m inclined to think you do.
Though it’s not the same as when I address
Him, your true Son, who never grows weary.
The Creator of time is not pressed,
But you? Do you never
tire?
You, whose ruin was vast as the sea,
Is it not enough that your heart was pierced
Once by a sword, but you must evermore
Be moved by our sighs and weeping?
Perhaps you will accept this reasoning
For my sometimes failure in devotion.
It’s no lack of love.
I would like simply
To express my gratitude.
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