As I serenely sit in front of St. Peter’s
Basilica, I soak in the beauty of the piazza,
I look about my peaceful surroundings,
Drinking in the delicious glory of God;
Clusters of clouds casually waft by, so low
That they almost brush the top of the dome,
They pass by like eager pilgrims, Eucharistic
White against the bright blue sky.
Fresh flowers flow down on the white steps in front
Of the altar, like a colorful cascading waterfall,
I inhale the perfume of their sweet scent,
And I breathe in the Lord’s love;
The elegant church bells powerfully and
Rhythmically ring out God’s grandeur,
While the balmy breeze swirls around me
And compassionately caresses me.