These double doors are my eyes that see into peoples' lives
the end of a neon bright hallway, surgically clean
a lone traveller drags her life by the handle
here at an obscure hour while others sleep

I wonder if it's necessary that she leave?
She seems so removed from the furrowed brow
ticking watch business-man beside her
Watch the time. A missed flight. The world unfamiliar.

The agitated jitter of a lady puzzles me,
why does she cry? what is she leaving behind?
where will she go?
the airport departure lounge
purgatory
for a travelling soul.

I walk on black crunchy sponge
barefoot, blank-minded, bedraggled

my backdrop is violent grey, green,
then white white white

wind whips my cheeks
then calms itself, calms me

I miss my sunshine on days like this
when the weather is rough

I appreciate it the most

(Mark, xi.17)

Thy mansion is the Christian's heart,
O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure!
Bid the unruly throng depart,
And leave the consecrated door.

Devoted as it is to Thee,
A thievish swarm frequents the place,
They steal away my hopes from me,
And rob my Saviour of His praise.

There, too, a sharp designing trade
Sin, Satan, and the World maintain;
Nor cease to press me, and persuade
To part with ease, and purchase pain.

I know them, and I hate their din;
And weary of the bustling crowd;
But while their voice is heard within,
I cannot serve Thee as I would.

Oh! for the joy thy presence gives,
What peace shall reign when Thou art there;
Thy presence makes this den of thieves
A calm delightful house of prayer.

And if Thou make Thy temple shine,
Yet self-abased, will I adore;
The gold and silver are not mine;
I give Thee waht was Thine before.