by Robert Nachtegall
Within chapel fair Is heaven’s coy lair, Atonement exposed, Veiled substance laid bare. Grave King wrapped in gold On stone sculpted bold Is humbly attired For us to behold The warm crimson light Chill shadows to flight And silence about Array closing night. For in solemn clime Is gifted dear time Where grief and regret Arouse love sublime That we who encroach With hearts fully broached, The garden restored On knees in approach Dare not fall asleep Before He who weeps But bide passion’s eve And vigil do keep.
Robert Nachtegall is married and lives in West Michigan, where he works as a business manager. He is previously published in The Imaginative Conservative and enjoys writing poetry as time and life permits.