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Writer's pictureTuananh

Shamrock Lane

March 7, 2010

Shamrock Lane


In the steel of the night against the opaque stained glass, luring its colors from the lanterns that line Shamrock lane, a gathering of red topped youth in a cluster of hymns from their devout choir. A young tenor strums his strings against the barrel of pine as the echoes join its diminished ensemble. As the candles of devotion line the altar’s edge, a celebration of renewed faith accompanies the many that have yet to triumph their heavenly biases. As I merged against the unforgiving pews, I am troubled by the silence of this world, it appeases me to no extent that tyranny lies beyond these rows but to the shallow grounds of the soul. Forgiveness is foolish. The arrogance that drapes the shroud coupled His thorn with grace. It is in this simple mystery that quarrels those with faith and those riding its coat tails. Perhaps it is this idea of faith that can simultaneously elevate us to a new doom. Pardoning the sinful and punishment for the sin, an irony that troubles not just the mere mortals but to those that guard the gate above and the valleys below. But in this place, there is a lasting piece of serenity that had been bestowed there since its conception. Trickling down from the past to its present, it is in these small clusters of peace that shields us from the unforgivable


~Pasadena, California


Manhattan, New York

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