precise reflection
softly demands
it be dormant
often unspoken
unrecognized
until it shows itself
unexpected, beautiful
calming and undeserved.

as unremarkable
as an old woman
kneeling at the communion rail
in an empty church.
where she would be
in old second hand clothes
the ointment of silent praise.

faith resists that the notions
consuming her matter.
the act of prayer becomes balm.
the words beget rhythm.
the cadence spawns desire.
in precise unlistening,
silence becomes pregnant.
for in the empty church
silence has an echo.

she will pass soon
a martyr to the bloodless
painful birth of forgiveness
kneeling at a worn communion rail
requiring saints
needing stainless objects to clutch

until she gathers before her
like children to her breast  
what she must remember
and says goodbye.