The red like the blood of Jesus
In the sacred crimson cup
Washing my Sunday blues away
In an instantaneous moment of solitude as the Sunday sunrise welcomed another day
Shining on this male cardinal’s chest illuminating and reflecting its cleansing power in all its majesty as I watched and in that single smallest moment felt a transformation of mind take place
A small change between the synapses as the glorious, majestic red of his courtly robes ran through my soul.
Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, August, 2016