i was compelled
drawn by the door
and stone pathway
to the
house of god
which no longer
stands in the cemetery
my footsteps remembering
what i do not
wreckage of an
ancient piano lies
ivory bones and strings exposed
in the corner of the field
it’s music long dead
how i wanted to use
my longing for the notes it played
to float the keys and body back together
my body reaches
into phantom sanctuary
the thought occurred
to me
that though
the building no longer
stands
the baptized believers would
think the ground
still holy
i wanted to feel it
to know what sacred grass felt like
i wanted to touch god’s earth
my knees bent
fingers in the dirt
i felt no god
but the oneness of
the people buried
around me
marriages
stillbirths
life
death
war
tears
illness
happiness
faith
placed into the ground
but their laughter is the church music
i can hear in sunlight
for that is the sound love makes
this is holy