Alone in a church
The beauty wooed me.
Angels of enchantment
Streamed from the stainglass windows.
Statues had a golden life,
Rainbows entered my eyes.
In the breathed hush,
Meditation was perfect.

But suddenly people began to enter
And I, caught in some scene, had to remain,

And before long I thought,
"What place is this?"
As hollow priestly voice
And hollow congregational response
Spoke shadows into the space.

Gone were the splendid silence,
The pregnancy of corners:
All angels had fled.

Leaving as soon as I could,
I breathed a sigh of relief
To see a tree, sign of life,
On the other side of the gread door,

And even traffic
Seemed not so stultifying
As church.

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