In veiled dress with upturned eyes
She piously looks toward the skies
White and blue in dedicated repose
never moves far and never moves close

Barefoot she stands on painted stones
Expectantly she seems to groan
Hands together and worlds apart
Windswept and frozen without a heart

The clay that prays in our place
the beautiful unnatural, unmarred face
why should we worry while she stands
Offering up her inanimate hands?

Simple and elegant in our devotion to the facade
our excuses will excuse ourselves and our God
Under clean linens we dare not reveal
how our tormented hearts truly feel