Because I could not leave well enough alone.

For LL‘s prompt for Random Acts of Poetry at High Calling Blogs, based on my earlier sketch: A Wander

On the pediment

Stood they

Silent and still

Gazing upon a world changed

White turned grey

And creeping black

The glint of gold

Gash of dirt

Sunbeams dance

Across curve of cheek

Hook of nose

Grasp of hand

Upon shepherd’s crook

Starlit spiral

Wonder of beryl, sapphire

Jeweled crown

Tendril heavenward

Relic of old

Hushed whispers echo

Archaic words

Rim round in word and sound

I stumble upon a stair

Time worn,

Rough mark of stone mason

Etched in the solid face

The dirt covers my shoe

On a path worn smooth

By thousands

And I wonder-

Is faith here?

Or there?

In the grit and the grime

or

the cut glass and gold

or do they

statues, lifeless

know

if it is a

both/and?

(St. Peter’s, Rome)

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Conjunction…

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