Oh how I miss

 How I miss


Oh how I miss the Roman rites

The holy saints and martyrs

The choirs in heaven with angels

In a steady firmament. 


Across the world in convents smelling

Of sweet incense and beeswax  

In hovels too the Latin breviary

Was opened on each Feast day. 


Around the globe in fervent prayer

With shoulders hunched and heads

That humbly bowed at every sacred call. 


A universe of saints and martyrs

The clergy and the laity combined

In unchanging granite liturgy. 


Monastic chant that rose above the pews 

United by a language few could master

United all the same in fervent piety. 


In paying homage to the mystery

Eyes could not see, nor voice describe

The very essence of the reverie 

 But just as real as wind and rain. 

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