01-03-2014, 09:37 PM
Sitting on coastal fields, atop chalk-lined cliffs,
a stone church remains, the crumbling turnstile of lives lived and past.
Entered together on a bright sunny day, devoid of teenage cares,
light beaming the only colors inside,
pouring, unobstructed through stained glass windows of yesteryear Saints.
All else is monochrome, like a sepia drawing,
chalk-colored walls replaced stations and images.
No sanctuary lamp, statues, even Christ was missing,
replaced by a cross, removed as if buried for all time,
leaving just His symbol, the suffering detached.
Silence resounded, amplified by whiteness now decisive as a Welsh chapel on Sunday,
but without the sound of voices raised in praise.
The old organ pipes silently past events, happiness, marriages, baptisms in worship …
Eucharist removed, apparently forever,
adds to an ambiance full of emptiness and loneliness; yet electric with hope.
Unfilled now with patrons declining in years,
visiting for Christmas and Easter, through a broken but open door,
hands shaking in fellowship,
while heads shake invisibly, silently … searching for meaning.
Meanwhile the Holy Spirit remains … Waiting patiently.
a stone church remains, the crumbling turnstile of lives lived and past.
Entered together on a bright sunny day, devoid of teenage cares,
light beaming the only colors inside,
pouring, unobstructed through stained glass windows of yesteryear Saints.
All else is monochrome, like a sepia drawing,
chalk-colored walls replaced stations and images.
No sanctuary lamp, statues, even Christ was missing,
replaced by a cross, removed as if buried for all time,
leaving just His symbol, the suffering detached.
Silence resounded, amplified by whiteness now decisive as a Welsh chapel on Sunday,
but without the sound of voices raised in praise.
The old organ pipes silently past events, happiness, marriages, baptisms in worship …
Eucharist removed, apparently forever,
adds to an ambiance full of emptiness and loneliness; yet electric with hope.
Unfilled now with patrons declining in years,
visiting for Christmas and Easter, through a broken but open door,
hands shaking in fellowship,
while heads shake invisibly, silently … searching for meaning.
Meanwhile the Holy Spirit remains … Waiting patiently.