Visitors**

Coming together as friends
we usher ourselves into his presence.
He’s waiting there, ready for us
in stillness and silence:
to place our lives, our gloves
our car keys, under the chair
and face him;
a baby,
a child in the temple,
a young adult at the river’s edge,
a thirty-something who cared;
for those who’d failed,
and had been failed.
Failing in our so different ways
we come as visitors to tell him so.