Lourdes
Poor silent wheeled about
The stone and marble route
Form queues to bathe and quench
Both foreigners and French.
Stone kissed and touched grown worn
As surely dreams are born.
A peaceful atmosphere
Remembering the seer.
Our Lady mystery
Makes sweet the misery.
God’s gift of life received
Makes us purely conceived.
Candle streams afire
Vanquishing the dire.
Angel’s Salutations
Rise with expectations.
Weathered faces shielding
Pilgrim’s faith unyielding.
Bodies of all races
Filled with heavenly graces.
Unsympathetic fiends
May stand to judge the scene
Yet tears of joy and pain
Change hearts to hope in gain.
I could relive every moment of our pilgrimage there, years ago! Beautiful poem…thank you, Father.