I write for the
aberrate visitor,
that stumbles upon my words

A buried shaft
for them to mine,
a voice that can be heard

Each poem baptized
as a child,
redemptions holy source

To comfort those
in pain and loss,
escape from their remorse

A secret voice
for searching ears,
that wander then alone

A haven safe
to offer hope
—and welcome them back home

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2019)