Susan LaffertyCrowds. Criss-crossing street intersections. Train stations. Shopping malls.
In multiple directions.
Pressing up escalators. Hiking staircases. Moving ever forward into trains. Onto sidewalks. Through subways.
Crowds. In your face. Up close. Yet often silent. Solitary.
Eyes on their phones.
Looking down. Or away. Staring off into the distance.
Light falls. Through the archway. Across timeworn stones.
We sit in cool shade. Island breeze, soft. The old city, silent.
Footsteps echo in narrow passageways. Against ancient walls. In Malta.
Climbing uneven steps, we look out across a valley. Small villages scattered here and there. White houses. Flat roofs.
These stretch out to a defined edge. On the Mediterranean Sea.
Soul exhaustion sets in. Unexpected.
Byproduct from observing those who scorn the cross. And reject the gospel.
Stone heart resistance catches my breath.
So, I pray.
