The Secret of Saints is...

On Saturday, I spoke at an event held in an Catholic church in Minneapolis. The stained glass was pristine, the stuff of much larger cathedrals, and it spurred this piece. Enjoy.

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The Secret of Saints Is

to be gentle with their histories; to hold them like crippled birds fallen from early summer's nest; to know nothing but that histories and wounded birds must go free to die (this is the earth's course); to mourn once the natural finite, the songs that might have been, maybe, and to rest ahead into tomorrow's sun, shining.

***TINY LETTER***

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