TESTIMONY
In 1979 I borrowed a dime
And stepped out in my party-dress
To make a call.
I’d need a cell phone now.
A careless man said,
“Find your own way home.”
St Theresa cut in on our line –
A sixteenth century nun pierced by light
Reminded me while kneeling there
To cut my anger with the sword of bliss
And revel in the sacred music
Anchor-less.
I still seek among the faces
Grief unstrung, listen to their emptiness
Of joy undone
Amidst the rage, the blindness and the fear;
Recognize magnificence
She told me would be there.
Alysse Aallyn 