The nuns have left the school
Their convent is now the headmaster's office
Without them I suppose
The garden wasn't needed
That paving it seemed efficient.
It is troubling though,
More than the statue's removal
Or loss of thriving birds and flowers,
The absence of holiness
In the evening light
Stone benches warmed by afternoon sun
No longer invite reflection
Sounds of devotions and song
Never drift to the circle of the garden.
As children, we rested securely
Within the ring of myrtles
Emptying our collection of dolls
Delighted to trade outfits and create adventures__
Stretch upon the blades of grass
Cushioned rich and thick beneath you
Listen for wind in neighboring oaks
Birds calling through the scent of honeysuckle
Shade eyes and observe St. Joseph
In white paper blossoms, enfolded
Consider his strength of family,
Faithful trust that kept them safe
Where is holiness among asphalt?
In bright signs on city blocks exclaiming:
"Give Me Jesus"?
In Gospel CDs on TV advertising:
"Limited Time Only"?
Do we believe God exists
That he moves among us?
A garden is no different than any other ground
Plants no different than their sisters
But hearts can declare more__
As children it made perfect sense
To play dolls right there
Where God was
by J. Elliott Jackson - originally published in the chapbook, WALK INTO A MOMENT
