With silence in steps I trickle my way
And stand in the half-light of altars and pews,
Puzzled in the majesty of panels and vaults.
Stirred to my veins, I gaze on those walls
And struggle to now gauge with unblinking eyes
The palette of faith that coloured those lines
And dazzle our empirical eyes.
I tremble and fold my unbelieving knees
And leave with whispers of prayers in the air
To fields of unclouded sunshine and green.
12 comments:
i like this one..let the whispers echo in the corridors of eternity...
fold my unbelieving knees..I like this line ~
i like the details of your poem ~
This is wondrous, especially the last stanza.
K
So beautifully written. I love the imagery of the old building.
I can see it and feel it through your eyes and words, Abin.
Love this...I trickle my way..fold my unbelieving knees. Your awe is communicated so well in the details of your poem.
wonderfully written - kind of serene - like it very much
Beautiful, Abin.
Beautiful - and though I don't adhere to any particular religion, I sometimes spend time in a chapel or cathedral here and always come out feeling more at peace. Loved your poem's concluding lines.
Very beautiful. I could feel the atmosphere. I, too, loved the "unbelieving knees".
I have actually been there! this was a great poem - really like how you phrase things! nice work!
Sometimes I feel I've lived my life on my knees. I sincerely love your
work, Abin.
Feel an affinity with your poems.
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