The adjective anonymous,
Although we know its origin,
Is like a hippopotamus
Submerged in the Nile.
A lovely park in Budapest
Displays a hooded, faceless man
A sculpted shrine, quite statuesque
Awe-full in its style.
Its name is St. Anonymous
Which is to say it has no name—
And yet it’s holy, ponderous,
Piercing, all the same.
It seems there are a host of saints
Displayed throughout the christian world,
Though faceless, nameless, without taint,
Foreigners to fame.
Like hippo nostrils, all we see
Of their good works and pious zeal,
Is art. Faith, anonymously,
Drove bulky submerged love, concealed
By saints without a name.
(10/15/08)