I will construct a reliquary of silver and crystal.
In a small chapel beyond bone and stars
it will be placed under the ormolu eyes
of the white night bird your guardian figure.
I will ask no question of provenance or authenticity
attend no pilgrimage or holy-day procession
but at dusk listen until all is quiet
then pour your mysteries into the casket’s core.
I will keep each one far from monk and monastery
simony and reforming silversmith.
Crossing fields at midnight for a silent mass
sole celebrant touching a globe of opaque glass.