Isa enters the church each day
spends an hour on her knees,
head bowed, mouth reciting
a prayer spoken so often it is worn ragged.
Her head is humbly down.
She is face to face with the crucified Christ,
but on Wednesdays she turns to Mary
in her blue robe.
By now, Isa’s head should shimmer
with the glow of a faint golden halo.
She has put in the hours.
So many hours. She should be consecrated.
Her name and face should be posted
on the church bulletin
Parishioner of the Year.
But that could lead to pride,
a fall from grace.

copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

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