I led a short, quiet Lenten retreat this past Saturday called "Light in Lent." We looked at the light in the beautiful stained glass windows in Christ Church, Smithfield. Below is a poem about my experience with the light and the glass.

Stained glass.

Playful brokenness.

Impure glory.

Windows that do not allow us to see out

But call us within and beyond.

The reds in Jesus' robe don't match,

But drape in beauty.

The cobalt blue background around the pillars

Is so bold that the pillars themselves recede in weakness.

So many painted eyes looking, searching you,

As though you were a window too.

So many feet and toes to remind us of our humanness

And glory in our bodies.

The emerald leaves over there seem to move

On a distant breeze not of this world

Or with divine breath.

Light speaks, sings a symphony.

Word glows with emanating power.

Truth lies

Mysterious

In the communion

Of the broken

Glass.