Poem: "This Sacred Place" by Steven Michael Pape

This Sacred Place
by Steven Michael Pape

This sacred place,
That i briefly visit
In certain seasons.
As inner voices, beckon,
And guide me towards.
A place where no one asks,
What i am doing?
Why i am here?
A place where one sits,
On freshly cut grass
Where incense smoke,
Lazily mixes with summer breeze.
My thoughts transgressive,
A sacred place,
Where i touch the stone surface
And trace each letter, inscribed,
With my hand,
Where warm lips kiss cold,
And flowers are arranged,
In impressive formations.
And the ancient angels
With watchful eyes
And weathered bodies,
Observe my exit.