Steel gray stare,
slunk into the second pew from front,
cold gray skin, gray coat too,
collapsed in disbelief, full slump.

Painful hush of vaulted ceiling,
a breathing, heaving soundless rhythm
silenced by creaking of old pews seeking
another passion gestured hymn.

Golden glow of ancient woods,
framed square to arch kept heights
bathed in shapes of cornice,
hold thereby, chapel ceiling lights

that fold white beams of reflected sun,
break shades of burgundy and amber,
where brilliant smile of brass and gold
defines a humble servant’s candor,

relaxes heart when pains are sold
or drawn toward the highest bitter…
so cry a stale and stupored gray,
to warm a lifetime’s winter.

If there within, such peace be found
where gray despondent days can mend
a frozen soul’s indentured fate,
then rebuild the strength to live again.
chapel d
chapel b
chapel e

Leave a comment

Filed under Photography, Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s