Converging like a photograph I thought was good when taken,
We cannot find this expected place in the world. Now.
Observed as something to be holy,
Our eyes see it but we cannot record it.
The pixels don’t show its glory,
Just two dimensions,
When four were present.
Looking at a reminder, now disappointed.
But then others, which seemed bland,
Now excite my senses,
Revealing what is needed,
And showing me where I should be going.
Or where I’ve been.
At last, a glimpse is here,
This slight separation,
Between heaven and earth,
As God shines on this holy place.
For me to receive the photograph of His holiness.
So suddenly, I discover all places are holy.