Gray clad and humble the holy Monk comes,
Giving a cautious nod to acknowledge the waiting crowd.
A saint-fueled sanctified hush envelopes the gathered scene.
Seems all the world stands in wait.
A once firm, now feebled bent hand reaches for the gilded rail,
As the contemplative gnome ascends the preacher’s stall.
Each step up seems to bring back years of lost vigor and youth.
Until the mountain-esk climb ends at a golden great gospel stand.
“Hear the Word of the Lord”, calls the saint to the gathered,
As platinum clad words and silvered peace-filled lyrics pour from this vessel of GOD.
Then all is complete with no more to be said,
Humbly venerating the good book, he begins his ascend back to his life.
Thanks be to GOD…
