Blackout

When the jet black crows

Swooped ominously down, blotting out my sky,

My inner vision darkened with every wingbeat.

My soul shrank

And all the certainties I'd known

Crumbled to dust, leaving me desolate and crushed.

Yet this glimpse of Gethsemane

Kindled an infinitesimal spark of faith,

Flickering unseen in some dark recess,

Like an oubliette within me.