Sparkatale

Myself, a Father, an organ player, and two older aids
Being there in a twilight home during
the Advent tides of winter
wondering how things would be handled
Then, the unforeseen had occurred

 I was asked to hold the white, soft towel
 for the father after preparing the Eucharist
 I did so, after his hands had washed, he turned and…
 handing it to him on reflex; he dried his hands
 After this, from this event as he handed it back

I froze in time unable to move  
as tempests of light roared into me  
A nuclear blast radiating purity came in  
cleansing all my body, mind, and spirit  
Unable to comprehend anything for a moment  
from the sheer impact and force of the blessed  
 ripping, tearing, and obliterating myself of shadowy vice

  
When my mind was able to form coherent thoughts:
“Why me? Why was I picked for this task?
There are others more qualified and worthy than I.
What made me, one who never carried a cross for mass…
to help in such a way as this?”