Pummeled by Parkinson’s,
he battles through the basilica,
leaning forward, heavily,
hunched over, crushed
under an invisible
wooden cross, laden
with the world’s woes;
from the ocean of onlookers,
a mother mildly lifts up
her little newborn,
and the Polish pope
most tenderly
blesses the babe
with a gentle kiss;
the spectators exhale
a halo as they breathlessly
and solemnly sigh, “O!”