#NaPoWriMo Day TwentyTwo – “Church Windows”

Day Twenty Two’s prompt has been inspired by Don Charisma’s Art prompt: Paint; that spanned over two days.

Day One http://doncharisma.org/2014/04/19/art-don-charisma-s-prompt/ was to draw a squiggle using paint program and Day Two was to colour/edit http://doncharisma.org/2014/04/20/paint-don-charismas-prompt/ so I decided to take it a step further and put some words to my random art.
RandomDoodle

 

Church windows tell us our story

We get lost in their beauty, look

thoroughly for humanity

for our part in the stain glass book.

We fall though colourful chaos

shaped by life’s imperfections

weighed by an invisible cross

haunted by our own reflections.

Breathing an enigmatic place

we soar down our own unique roads

animating our human grace

within our marvellous abode.

Have you looked in your church window?

Do you know the stories they show?

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#NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen – “a weeping angels woe”

 

Alone in the churchyard I watch

mortals mourning in tears and flowers.

Leaning against a rowan tree

abandoned by my family.

Beneath my feet a girl is weeping

I open my arms and kneel down

In surprise, she looks up at me

screaming like a startled crow.

She runs back through the stone and grass

reaching out to her, I follow

She turns to me – her eyes are cold

and zap – she’s now in the past.

Falling through time – I am weeping;

my eyes hidden behind grey fingers.

Left within eternal sleeping

this is where my Winter lingers.

Goodbye, Uncle

We got the word on Christmas morn,

And they told us you were gone.

Asleep, at peace, with the angels

The Silent Night, your Swan Song.

So, rest your weary head, dear uncle

your work on earth is complete.

“God is good”, you used to tell us

Now you’re sitting at his feet.

Sitting in the kitchen corner

With your cigarette and smiles.

“Oh, My” and “Exaa-ctly”

we would laugh with you awhile.

I’ll remember your red jumper

And the coat that was too big.

I’ll remember your brilliant mind,

And playful mischief with us kids.

I remember the last gift you gave

Was a box of “Indian Sweets”

We all gasped, and gave you “the look”

But were grateful for the treat.

Rest easy now, dearest uncle

Your light shines on us from above

No words can describe our sadness

Always and forever, sending our love.

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