Who goes there

In a dark world,
Standing guard against a foe,
‘Who goes there?’

Enemies bound by blood,
Converge before a stone,
They say it heals them.

Many mothers ago,
Carried in one’s arms,
That Child heals.

His power resides
Not in feldspar or crystal
And yet they bow.

Neither confess an image
Carved by human hand,
And yet they pray.

In different tongues
But hearts of faith
Their sorrows cry.

‘Who goes there?’
Sentries invisible watch
The beaten path.

A door propped open
Into the abyss of life,
Beckons a rocky hand.

Clay pigeons came alive
In legends told
But here, Life flows.

War, cease from struggle
Before the throne,
Receive His peace.

In a dark world,
A Light enlightens him
Who goes there.

— Romanós