by Matthew R. Brown
It is the glory of the Church that it cannot name all the saints.
It is the glory of the Church that it cannot remember all the saints.
It is the glory of Christ that we cannot count all the saints.
Saints are found behind all the rocks of the mountain.
Saints are found among the trees of the wood.
Saints hide in blossoms, ride birds, top clouds; follow passages under the earth.
They sweep the floors of the universe.
They take out the garbage of the cosmos.
The seeds they scatter soften and green the hillsides; leaves open their hands; joyful beasts wander among trees, cling to grassy slopes.
The faithful cling to the roots of the saints, growing up from the ground.