I creep through
the doors shut soft
a cushion of quiet over my form.
the room stops and I go.
I sneak among moments like this I’ve scattered about this place,
this room is alive
once more with moments
with measures and music I’ve spread of you all around me.
I can see your shoes under the bench again;
butterleather, worn and navy
folded at the toes,
from a million notes laid loud and triumphant in their hearts.
gleams like copper with the brilliant godlight from the window above.
halfway shut for there’s so much to keep inside;
so warm for me.
And that back pew…
there you sat.
you spoke there,
I can’t take it and then the now floods back in.
I gather these moments hurriedly
like plucking love as flowers in a field of morning dawn.
I keep one for myself;
the rest I lay at God’s feet.
“take care of her for me.”