Poem: "Gaudí" by Ryan Moore

Photo Oct 08, 2 55 59 PM.jpg


Alone, inside the skeletal hints

Of your lofty vision,

In a room of scrolls and sketches,

Heart once broken,

You would work.

A genius, indisputable.


There your mind conceived a


Pouring forth your genius 

And your sorrow

Into the grand chrysalis of your own loneliness. 


Everyday you'd walk to Mass

Take body and blood to lips,

Transmute them 

Into light and glass and soaring stone.


Everyday for forty years you went out

 And came back.


Until the final day, 

When you did not return.

Until carried by the long black car

To rest beneath your yet uncreated creation

Plans laid for what only others

Could complete.


On the last day

Which is the first day

We'll awake to a new world

Transformed, renewed 

Where all that was broken, 


All evil banished

All death departed.

A world utterly transformed.


But you waking 

In the basement of your cathedral

Will find your ideas come into being


All else in the world transfigured, 

But your church 


Perfect in its imperfections,

No resurrection needed.

A monument to a weeping world.