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.


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.


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