While waiting for the train on the cold morning of February 28th, the following poem began to take shape. It seemed to me that the uncertain skies that day paralleled the uncertain time that lies ahead for the Church before the election of the next Pontiff.

 

Sede Vacante

 

Dawn paints the heavens

Marian blue

Splashed with grey-white clouds

That dither indecisively

Between the joy-filled brightness of thanksgiving

And the stark somberness of sorrow

 

Across an ocean

A basilica stands

Like a hearth

Where no fire burns,

Devoid of warmth, light, comfort, or cheer;

The chair of Peter is empty.