In the ruins

Between the trees of the old park

Brick fence

with cast iron bars in wide and high openings

behind them human silhouettes are flocking

hands stretched out in supplication

A ladder leaning on the earthen terrace

I want to climb up

although the light there too is dim

And more human silhouettes forming the crowd

with hands raised imploringly

level below the ladder

which they cannot climb



The road leads to the ruins of the great cathederal

Rubble

Sharp pointed window arches

There is no sun

no blue sky

black abyss above the ruins

without stars

I have stood in a nave without a roof

in front of the altar

and light appeared from above

and monstrance

and the Voice that spoke

I Am Who I Am

On the hill

Majestic

On the hill

A church

In the twilight of the early morning

Climbing to it - that is quite a feat

Upstairs leading there seem to have no end

In several high and vast naves

In the candlelight, concentration and silence

some groups of people immersed in prayer



From the eastern side

delicate glow

is illuminating the sandy path running from the river

gently going upwards

to the portal from ground level



Thoughtful pilgrims are walking along the path

individually and in small groups

I am looking around and looking for familiar facial features

I am entering luminous nave

full of people sitting in the pews

and know that someone is waiting there for me