Summer Light

Late summer sun,

shining golden,

through stained glass.

A prism of color,

moving along pews.

As I sit here in silence,

my prayer dry,

the heart heavy.

On the altar,

the Cross shines,

reflecting back

the light it receives.

Reminding me,

that I’m not the light,

but one called to reflect,

that greater light.

In these dry times,

I seek your grace,

in the golden

late summer light.

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