No miracles like St. Catherine nor angels like Abraham.
There are times to be glad that God does not visit, or perhaps
just slips in through the side-door and rests quietly on a stool in the corner.
Presence is found in dust silently stirred from turned
pages, churning through morning light
from windows high on stone walls.
Old hands worn shiny and wrinkled like sacred
manuscripts - vessels pouring God onto pages,
storing Him like aging wine.
Scott is an old psychologist and a young poet. He loves working with children and adolescents of all backgrounds, identities, and directions. He has published poetry in several journals including The Avalon Literary Review, Small Farmer's Journal, and Jerryjazzmusician.
The Ekphrastic Review
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