Sacred Mysteries

The sacred mysteries of my life are not found in churches

Or in the holy books of churches

Not even ivory ivied towers of reasoned thought suffice

To hold my mysteries

My mysteries are not concrete objects to be pinned down like rare butterflies

Instead they are ineluctable treasures

Skies painted with sunset hues

A lover’s gaze

The synchronicity of coincidence

Soaring chords of scintillating majesty

Warm touches

Smiles in the face of adversity





These are the mysteries I hold sacred

And if I don’t understand them completely or at all

It doesn’t matter

They are complete without my inadequate analysis

Tarnishing the brassy sheen of their beauty

So I accept them with wonder and delight

David Trudel   ©  2013

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