This Woman, This Church

I walk alone in this Church.

Searching for light.

Watching those around me,

becoming something more.

Looking upon myself,

stuck in then passing days.

 

A woman I knew,

strong, and courageous,

walked the halls of this Church,

passing by with words of wisdom.

She noticed me.

Dark, lonely, me.

 

This Church turned into home,

her office, a safeplace.

The darkness within my soul transitioned,

through the Spirit and her words.

My lonely became my past,

as my darkness filled with light.

 

This Church is my call,

this woman, its vessel,

this darkess, its work,

and this Spirit, its light.

My mentor, this woman.

My life, this Church.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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