When Lauds Ended
The final ‘amen’ spoken at Lauds
I depart this sacred room. Snuffed
candles lift the fragrant
sacrifice of
vows kept and praises
offered. Lights
dim to darkness, save the
corridor’s
fluorescent noise just beyond the
threshold. The sanctum is now
‘My books,’ I remember, ‘are left
in that place.’ Crossing the
shadowy
portal I sense this return is
appointed. I see a reserved seat, a new
vantage from moments ago. This
place,
somewhere between Gethsemane and
Tabor, shines
a light in the young
darkness. Where is that sun
in this tenebrous place? A trace
gleam illumines the gold leaf
crowns of
S. Peter, Paul, James, and
John. Their glory
refracted from Light Himself, the
Son radiates this
Universe.
This dark alone recedes now with a
singular
glimpse of Communion; Images
glimmer the
Promise of changed glory and
unceasing
intercession for sojourners
longing for
Home.
When Your Light shone and Your
Host
appeared, my claustrophobic soul
surrendered
in the glorious crowding of your
agapic
embrace. This sanctum became
thronged with Presences
believed, yet unseen. These faint eyes
cannot number the host of
attending
Angels. These ears cannot hear the
Patriarchs’ prayers. Your Spirit translates
my inaccessible depths with
groanings
inexpressible.
With Lauds ended, You whisper the
reason for this
summons: “You have prayed to me this day. Now I AM
and My host of heaven will pray for you."
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