Meadow Aers

by Chris Vrountas

Stained glass leaves whisper
psalms in the breeze

Trees shimmer aers
shake thuribles
and chant an ancient rite

Ineffable prayers
call the Spirit upon
the proceedings

Lone pine points upward
an altar to the here and now
marking passage in the meadow

Holy emptiness
filled with presence

Not to be held
but experienced.

Doxa ton Theou
Doxa
Doxa
Om

---

Chris Vrountas is a writer and lawyer. He lives in Essex County, MA, with his wife, who still laughs at his jokes after 32 years. He has practiced law for just as long and serves as a mediator of discrimination disputes for the Human Rights Commission. He grew up in an immigrant faith tradition that has evolved over the years, and he writes about impermanence, hope, and rebirth.