I sit and ponder
Contemplate thoughts
The creaking pew
The sight of flaming candles
Comforts me
Lit by those who seek
Who show respect
For the one of this house
So that He can hear their thoughts
Fears and sins Old grandmothers cloaked in black
Limping from age and ailments
I acknowledge them
With an impassive smile
What is one so young doing here?
Ha! It is as if they are the only ones
Who can visit this house!
And touch base with Angels and Gods
Although I
Don’t know
Whose house
This belongs to
I think He left long ago
But the walls and icons
The Gold and tapestry
Rhythmic chanting
The candle keeper
At the door
The tinkling of coins
Falling silently on velvet
Or on each other on a good day
Reminds me that
This is His place
Why in particular
I dwell at this sanctuary?
There are others
Everywhere and anywhere
Perhaps because I have
Been to this place Since I was born?
Maybe that symbolises Something?
Lately I have neglected
This place
One night I shall return
For what I don’t know
Perhaps to revel amongst purity
To find peace Even when
He Isn’t home....
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1 comment:
I count the days until we are folded into each other's arms again. To listen to your breathing, to feel the rise and fall of your breasts as they push against the side of my chest, the weight of your leg across my belly, to taste your lips, to smell your hair. Our home has been too large, our bed empty for too long. I will bring you home.
Love Always
~Dirk
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