In tha chapel of St. Leonard

[mat james]

sauntering through the bleating

...sauntering in
from some ancient land
I hummed
in the chapel of St. Leonard
...the mood was sunshine and threnody
manna for a winged soul
mulching melancholy

among these lamentations
and laughter
and light
...one lamb-of-a-ram
took to bleating
"poor me, poor me
poor poor me
me me me
Me!"

I sauntered out
beyond those wailing walls
and reflected
as any free-heart would

...to lament is human
to bleat...is not divine.