Churches of My Youth, The

Always stained glass: amethyst, vermilion,

blue and emerald, sun-brightened saints,

scenes from Our Saviors life or the Virgin's,

windows depicting Eve and the serpent,

leaden lines visible only from without.

Carved statues and the stations, Simon

helping Jesus, Veronica to wipe His face.

Golden tabernacles for the body of Christ,

rounded doors etched in filigree

to signify ineffable mystery.

The courtyard of St. Leo's held a grotto

where candles danced in claret wells,

filled triple tiers to honor Mary,

forever cloaked in white and blue.

I would attend early Mass, return

afternoons to keep vigil, pray

novenas for causes I cannot recall.

Whatever my sorrow, my desire,

spirits lifted with Eucharist,

censed during Benediction:

haze of myrrh across the nave,

words and song graced by Latin.

STELLA NESANOVICH*

* Stella Nesanovich is the editor of Points of Gold: Poems for Leo Luke Marcello (New Orleans, La.: Xavier Review Press, 2005) and a regular contributor of verse to this journal.

Copyright Anglican Theological Review, Inc. Summer 2006
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