When I look at the cross
I do not see you there
among the vines, enwrapping.
I see you soaring in my mind
soul rising above, showing
way to redemption’s
salvation, knowing
through Love you lived, died
remain a beacon, glowing.
Above pools of greens and blues
iris of eyes reflecting beauty clear
as voices rise to sing of hope
I feel your spirit near.

While the Gregorian chant
stirs feelings deep with only
two syllables solemnly played,
do not we tears of joy, of passion cry
as memories float through musical air
to heart, marking it with a believer’s sigh.

Keeping time, together we hum
evolve into our greater selves.
Harp strings buck the sterile silence
from separation, from loss, freeing
body, soul with notes streaming.
Crossing the threshold to healing
worldwide, voices rejoice and sing.