POEM: BLESSED IN NEWARK

Orthodox in all but name,
We find ourselves between the apse and nave
Of two worlds where our reflections
Mimic blank expressions
And pepper mosaic windows.

The bus wends its way through Vailsburg,
My spiritual home, our Fatima,
Where we gained strength
On Friday evenings in April and May
And heard the Sodality Sisters gather and sing
The hauntingly beautiful Acathistos service
To the Mother of God.

This annual preparation for the Passion
Featuring sacrificial tin can banks,
Was shattered by a new wave of bloodshed,
The fifth attack in three weeks,
Which sparked a night of rioting near Bethlehem.

The suicide bomber on a bicycle,
Who may have been a woman, died.
When was the reincarnation?

Did I miss the body?

Which turn for Zarvanytsia?

-- Roman S. Ponos