Take Me Home

This is a poem that I wrote recently about how I often live in the past and fear the future, but that giving up is not an option. Each stanza ends with a repeated verse, which stems from something I said in a prayer the other night in a shower (as odd as that sounds). I thought it was neat, so I wrote it down and ran with it.

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Fire, Cruel Mistress (With a Golden Cross We Stand)

This is a poem written about the fire that took place at the historic Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. I saw a photo taken in the aftermath of a golden cross unscaved, and subsequently saw a video of the beautiful harmonies of the people singing at the vigil in the streets the next day. Even as our world burns, Mother Mary, Our Lady, Notre Dame, still stands.