They shed their disease
as they enter the room
they fall to their knees
leave their blood on the floor
they taste of His flesh
as He offers forgiveness
tears from the masses
cleanse their wounds and their sores.
Miracles abundant cannot be refuted
crutches unused left next to the door
the spirit of healing permeates the zephyr
thousands of testimonies whisper from the walls.
The dirt many say
is the harbor of miracles
for the pilgrims of faith
who journey each year
the Santuario de Chimayo
hears the cry of the people
offers hope, rest and healing
to all who come near.
–
©Shelli Carlisle 2011
Scattered Nonsense 
very lovely.
🙂
you make the sadness and hopefulness visual….
Good one! Hope is the energy that pulls us on…
Thank you for your comment on my blog and I hope you did not mind my using your photograph. My own photos did not capture the feelings of being there as yours did. I thought it would be okay as long as gave credit to you. I really liked the poem above. I get it 🙂 All the best. Julie