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POETRY
Museum Day
A different kind of pilgrimage
the way made holy by repetition
years’ worth of tire tread worn down
on the highway heading north and west
To Art, in all its sacred beauty revealed
within temperature and light controlled halls
We enter flushed
and become hushed
standing as close as they will let us
and wondering at the light within
the oils that radiates outward
From an age of faith
into the sour air
of modern skepticism
we breathe it in
so it mingles with the Divine
we carry inside us,
the treasured pearl rolling
and lolling with its own joy
at what the glow of art illuminates
In His image
the grace of creative drive delivered
by well-placed brush strokes
and the inspired marks of the master’s hands
It’s the Jubilee Year, so yes everything will point to some kind of pilgrimage in my writing! Thanks for reading.
