Not a new poem, but one written out of a powerful experience of shared prayer.
And as she wrestled her
headlong thoughts into
focus, strong hands
enfolded and controlled
as if invisible reins
had felt a master’s touch.
And for a timeless space
the shared prayer streamed
beneath the virgin’s gaze
to join the glass-note song
that pierces with its love.
We prayed, you and I,
as the virgin watched.
That much was clear.
But did you know
the turbulence calmed,
the weakness held,
the prayer borne up
on the warmth of your
silent companionship?
I think she know, awaiting
the sword that pierced her soul.
©C.M.M.
Beauty from Chaos 
Thank you, Chris.
I was going to post today, but failed to do so before church and the time difference from the States is telling.
Now, I think I shall simply take your poem as a gift, and not begin writing.