The sea of faces,
None so real as the others,
Hiding behind these physical faces, are the real ones?
The most beautiful ones may yet be
A mask none the less.
We are masked monsters hiding
Under the empty smiles, hard angers,
Like a vacant soul I wander knowing not
With what to fill the deep crevase
That hails violently asking to be filled
Deep in me like a hungry hyena
That scours around looking for the dead
When many are alive around.

The Walls of Jericho came down tumbling,
they fell onto the ground,
they heaped up dust and rubble
all happened with a sound.
Standing, wrecked, solitaryobserving
as the ruins lay bare forlorn,
I felt my heart like old ways
irretrievably torn,
A new foundation is needed,
pile carefully brick on brick,
building firm on this foundation
because the old walls made me sick.

Her hands for many things
Embracing her children
Patching up boo boos
Carrying shopping bags
Cooking for others
Pushing her cart
Picking out vegetables
Folding her hands
So lovingly in prayer
The rosary she held
So tight in her hands
As the beads slipped gracefully
At each Hail  Mary
And now she's in Heaven
Where she can see Mary