The Old Church: A Prayer*

Empty now of breath and being

Save one traveler

Tired from a walk,

A journey

A mind move into the past.                                               

The very light is consecrated-

Blessed by stained glass

Caressed thought in vibrant shades of

Purple, red and gold.

Jesus and his cross

Stationed around the walls,

Stained, scarred face

Asking

How will you treat me

How will you treat me?

Will you eat me?

Air thick and heavy

Incense memory

I am small again

I am small again

Fighting against incensual nausea

Remaining in place to hear

The wonder of the choir

The splendor of the priest

And for a time I neglect the beast

Reaching into the spirit

With feeling so loud

Everyone must hear it.

But they sit and stare afraid to share

A smile, a touch

Afraid so much of being

Disrespectful.

Regretfully, pained

I turn again

To the thoughts of pain

Of Calvary

Of thunderstorm

Of rain

As one lone man cries out in secret sequence

“Let this cup”

“Thy Will”

“Forgive them”