PureInsight | April 23, 2001
The clock pointing early.
Chapel bound.
OH! Never before such wondrous beauty, onward cycling enraptured, strange glow of sunlight.
Unknowingly approaching the chapel, the light the colour fades.
Leafless summer trees darken the home of crows.
Finger in (the) water font, strange the old look old as do the young, styled and clothed in another era.
Mounting gallery steps avoiding curious glances, sitting, others turning, look.
The mass in progress, sacrament displayed, chimes, the priest mounts the pulpit a young man.
The face behind the face, a face of untold age (indescribably old).
Leaving hurriedly to avoid curious glances. Then return to camp.
