Steady, her name
balanced its sword or spear or pole
to fight, or to throw, or to catch a fish
gleaming in the sun?
No one knows.

Strong stood the feet of her name;
her letters spilled and pooled and stayed
firm in serifs and type,
and curled at the edges like old paper chains
gilded golden with light.

Her name, teasing loops
of a soft-spun web or a knotted rope
cast to the water, wide-flung her net--
what sought she to catch within
those loosely woven threads?

Marble floor reflection against the brightness
Wooden kneelers smooth with lightness
Stained glass windows of Virgin so mild
Hearts beating with love towards Her Child
Silver embroidered, the glittering like rain
Crucifix and dying Christ expression of pain
Purity of white cloth, red of blood and old
Presence so loving, arms to enfold
Beads of wood in trembling fingers
Walking, praying, a woman lingers
Mantilla draped like a veil of truth
Uncertainty in the eyes of the youth
Strong faith, strong hope, strong love