Sisters Passing

A sister passed so close to me
one very soft September eve
and I shivered in holy dread
as there was none sound born of her tread
Hard I did gaze rapt in wonder
whilst my heart clapped trembling thunder
This bride of Christ
was more shimmered than winter ice
At each station
she genuflected her Lord's passion
so unaware it must be said
of falling leaves nimbus dancing
above the veil of her bent head
As I watched her move
over the mow and through the wood
no note heard I of pipping bird
or Lourdian spring
Only whispers
of her Virgin Lady smiling
Frozen in time I had realized
that from behind some Autumn elm
she never again materialized
And as I turned for to take my leave
I saw yet even more sisters
on that golden eve
Eager to make each their own round
in St. Cecilia's resting ground
With weeping heart quite discreetly
did I depart that hallowed place
being much wounded
of St. Cecilia's most secret grace
)O(