Friday, November 3, 2017

“The Holy Loo”

When, in a church or chapel’s hush,
A distant toilet’s heard to flush,
And in the nave, above the drone
Of psalm or sermon, all alone,
A child is hiding, a girl of three—
She’s hiding in eternity.
Already, in these sacred walls,
The child has learned that nature calls
As well as God, at any time,
And any life, as any rhyme,
Is balanced only if, in all,
The sacred and the natural,
Are found together, one for one,
When prayer, oath, creed or day is done.

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