JAMES CAMPBELL
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THE ABBEY

A pounding head and twenty stolen winks

leave me dazed and abandoned

in a surrealistic, melancholy world.
 

Already late, I pass from the brilliant sunshine into the cool

darkness of the Abbey, as bald, aging cherubim sing “Gloria”.
 

I sink low into my seat, culture-shocked and travel-weary

as high, sweet sounds flutter to the peak of the arched ceiling

and hover like a thousand butterflies.

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SÃO PAULO

Life swirls here

Like blood coursing through a body...

hot,

rich

And when spilled

a garish

glorious

awe-filled mess.

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ON BOARDING A PLANE

Life happens while you wait.

Standing on an endless line –

the heavens pass

the stars flare, then disappear

dreams come and go.

And we,

numbed and blind

see only glimpses of these wonders –

only snippets of all that glory.



James P. Campbell, All Rights Reserved


"The glory of God is the human person fully alive."
Saint Irenaeus of Lyon, 2nd century