Sunday Sonnet!

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As waves of incense permeate the air,
Infusing everyone with fragrance sweet,
A sense of the divine, beyond compare,
Reach out, in love, the praying soul to meet;
Immersed in plainsong’s joyful, lilting tone,
Committed devotees their worship tend,
In adoration of the Great Unknown
Whose steadfast faithfulness none can unbend;
Some hold such observation in contempt,
Decrying blind belief as fanciful,
Yet proof resides within sincere attempt,
And not in wrapping minds in cotton wool;
The fool can see no sense in anything,
The wise perceives some good in everything!

©Meanderings 2017

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