Even if You Don’t Believe

Poem

Empty streets

Occasionally a bus rolls away

Darkness with fleeting clouds

A moon leaving for the sun

Birds’ twitter trespass the silent night

And gathered here we are

On top of the steps

Leading to the Great West Door.

Christ is risen the symbol

Of our Nirvana

A Paschal Candle

While we all gloriously live

As if we’re dead.

Writing workshop in April news. I’m hold…