A SPECIAL FEATURE
BY
LINDA RONDEAU


Empty tears drop upon the bread
Soaking up the yeast of insincerity
Spilling into the sacraments they make mockery

Lips in meaningless chatter
Hands ever busy yet not serving
Feet scurrying in no celestial destination

Little lambs still bleat for food
The aged head bows sad and lonely
The wanderer finds no respite

And all the while they call me, Lord
Calvary mourned but love forgotten
I know them not

They take the host in vain
For I will spew them out
Into the darkness they love

Other tears fall upon an altar
Stains of contrition mar the wood
A heart kneels in reconciliation

Lips speak comfort to the sorrowing
Hands touch the unlovely soul
Feet bound to lift the downtrodden

My lambs cry no more for food
The aged head is lifted
The wanderer finds a resting place

And all the while I call them, Children
Calvary understood, remembered
I knew them truly

They take the host in purity
I will bring them home
Forever in my presence




Copyright by Linda Rondeau
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Linda Rondeau

In Remembrance