Sunset at Chicago

Winter sunlight glances down through bare trees,

Planted row on row in an effort

To brighten a gray city.

It flows gently across the fake Gothic buildings,

With their imported gargoyles,

And occasional stained glass windows.

My eyes are drawn to a small chapel,

Resting, almost hidden, in the center of the rather bleak campus,

Whose blue-green windows, surrounded by ivy, glow in the sun.

And at the end of a long day,

With all the pressure and troubles of living…

There comes a moment of peace.


M.A. Mohanraj

January 21, 1992