EXPERIENCE
RELIGIOUS
The sky is less clouded than my conscience As I weave my way down hollow city streets Steeples surround the city square Affixed with crucifixes
I peer at empty pews
Nature photos by Molly McCormick 2 6 \\ J U L Y 2 2 , 2 0 2 0
Wearing regal robes of frosted sage And ochre flowers
Smiling beneath stained glass But turn away
Holy water drips down crooked crags
Opting, instead of guilt, for grass Beneath my tired feet.
While the wind whispers humbling hymns into my eager ear.
I pass over asphalt, across glittering gravel
Thick carpeted aisles betwixt painted pews
With liberating lightness I allow my feet to choose their path
Are replaced by sequined quilts of autumn colors
Each step moves broken rocks into
Blanketing abounding breasts, pointing, with their aged beauty
Singing symphonies of forgotten songs
by ElizaBeth Whittington
Steeples of moss-covered cliffs adorn hallowed hills
Into the azure blue sky.
