The Show is Over

A choral sound still echoes
Soft through dusty, darkened nave
Cathedral of my mind now empty
Hollow of those souls I’ve saved

Hallowed was the path they’d tread
Without infernal litanies
Pity, moved by mouths we fed
Self-referential liturgies

And as the candles dribble flat
Upon the chilly stones beneath
I recollect what thoughts grew fat
As mourners laid their threaded wreath

Old bodies plump with hoarded pride
To know their lives were meaningful
Expressions rapt, ears open wide
Intent on straining moral gruel

Our simple kindness passing fair
Gives voice to what they call divine
With dissonance to clear the air
When all they taste is bread and wine

And as we pass from Earthly grace
To twist and shout in crypts below
I lay my blessings on this place
At this, the ending of the show

A graceful corner

The wind that wafts the cypress trees
That sway as dancers, to and fro
Within this place of make-believe
To tickle fancies, fast and slow

Brings little joy to residents
Nor tourists struck by wanderlust
Who hurry onward, business-bent
And grit their teeth against the dust

These quiet passages bear marks
That whisper other sides to life
Some ooze what passes after dark
The noisome remnants of our strife

And yet my mind is pausing here
A pleasant hour to pass. I wait
Enclosed by those with much to fear
Without this sanctuary gate

Unacknowledged

They sit at the back
Unobtrusive, anonymous
Hope to remain ignored
Surrounded by the
Insular hostility
Of another crude creed
Ears pricked, faces lowered
And poised to panic
They await my signal
As the concert begins