Across Each Threshold
So frequently we sat inside
those holy dwelling places,
All Saints for all our sins,
knowing that true grace is
here in the pulpit, there in the pew.
So shamelessly we sat inside
those holy dwelling places,
Salvation found at fingertips
touching through forbidden spaces,
clinging, cold in the shadows outside.
So carelessly we sat inside
those holy dwelling places.
Do you recall the Chapel,
side by side with angel's faces,
where you first dared to touch my hand?
Across each threshold, love, My love,
we carried burning traces
of that blackest, basest love,
which no rosary erases.
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