Poetry Break.

 I found a long-lost poem while I was doing some KonMari organization on my file cabinet. It's obviously pretty old.

I call this one, "Bullshit."

A self-indulgent, condescending woman once told me,

"The greatest art is borne of sorrow."

(bullshit)

She then told me,

"When you finally experience sorrow, you

will understand what I mean."

(Because pain never visits those under thirty).

    I didn't say that my mother had died a year ago.

    I'd put my dog down two months ago.

    I had left my husband a month ago.

             She was a liar.

 

The best art comes from joy.

A great loss.

Photos do the stained glass no justice. It was awe-inspiring.

The Notre Dame cathedral in Paris is burning as I write this. I had the privilege of visiting the cathedral several years ago. It was a life-changing event for me. 

The church and grounds shone with devotion to beauty, faith, and architecture. I experienced transcendence when I looked at the stained glass and wandered the cool, dark interior.

I'm not Catholic, but I lit a candle for my mother.

The famous entrance and flying buttresses.

Exterior Gardens.

Side chapels.