The Chapel

Your footsteps caress the chapel floor
your somber form slides in
between the doubts
and faith
Consternation on your face
You pray

Hail Mary,
Full of Graces
Mother of
so many Faces
your chasm runneth away with me

I stand in the corner
holding my camera
I’m supposed to be taking pictures of
the chapel’s gleaming
architecture
But all I can see
is the arch of your back.

“Close your eyes
and pour your faith
into my hands; I am no man,”
You swear you can hear him speak.

As all that you know
That you don’t know,
Washes away beneath your feet.