NaPoWrMo: #14 The Burning of the Bells...so very sad

https://spiritdailyblog.com/news/notre-dame-burning

I tried to find a past poem I wrote about Quasimodo, but I couldn't find it. I think it is posted here somewhere on this blog. However, the sad news today is all I could think about. Here is my poem offering tonight.

Holy Fire Week

A casual observer

Shocks me to my socks

“I hear Notre Dame is burning!”

I had no words

A blur of color and wind

Paris in all seasons

And that place

That settled my inner being

By being a center

Of a city, a time, an era, and history

Mine, yours, ours, and a nation

It was seen to tour the beauty

But to know the celestial wonder

Of the story of Christ though

The church and the lives

Of so many faithful

That sang, prayed, and gathered

Here as an anchor

To God so far away

Brought closer in this

Cathedral of opulence through simplicity

The worn faces of apostles

Staring out to the city

Guarding the passers by

Gargoyles crouching

Ready to pounce on any evil thing

That dared to swirl around the doors

Or fly up to the bell tower

They would be ejected

Caught in the teeth

Of those gruesome guards

And spit out to be

Splattered on stones below

They are the gatekeepers

That welcome in the bright light

Through that multi-hued round window

Named for a rose

Delicate as each petal

Touching to form a whole

Which colored the colorless

Bathed them in afternoon warmth

God’s loving embrace from above

This warming peace through light

Though the halls and nooks

Were quite dark

The lights were always enough

To illuminate what was hidden

In corner alcoves, a Bible story

Painted or sculpted for us to understand

Seeing the searching faces of those

Who sought God’s presence before us

At some angles on the outside

The building looked like it was about to launch

The flying buttresses holding it steady

For nearly a thousand years

The spire, perhaps the last to be built

Pointing so straight up to God

If ever there was a neon sign

that was the one

and now it is gone

Consumed by unholy fire

From an unknown source

The people weep

Not knowing where to look

As the sign has collapsed

In a gasp, trying to breathe

Out it’s last words

Still standing

God not gone

I will rise again

This is Easter’s song

My son in red walking towards the church 7/2017