Slip off your needs

and set them by the door.

Enter barefoot

this darkened chapel

hollowed by loss

hallowed by sorrow

its gray stone walls

and floor.

You, congregation 

of one

are here to listen

not to sing.

Kneel in the back pew, 

make no sound, 

let the candles 



Patricia McKernon Runkle


"It was a happy day when I discovered that in the English of Chaucer's day - which was also the time of the Black Death - the word "silly" meant "blessed." I am not sure when we strayed away from its original meaning, when blessedness took on a churchy aura and silliness became the realm of Monty Python and fourth-grade eschatological humor. As hard-working adults we too often lose the gift for letting go, for delight in simply being. We persuade ourselves that every moment must be lived productively; like the busy little bee, we feel a holy obligation to improve each shining hour. We would do well to take very small children or big silly dogs as our teachers. I have learned much about holy uselessness from Perry, the dog..."
— Margaret Guenther