Let the winds take me

When I hear bells
as I do now from the distant church
on this grey Sunday morning
my mind moves to death

it isn’t a death knell I hear
it’s more of a come along
come sit and sing and pray

in a cold church
on cold stone
with cold echoes
of forgotten tongues

I cross my fingers when I enter a church
for what reason except a practiced apathy
for these stones of God
and the frigid thought that I’ll be preyed upon

yet see how magnificent they are
how tall and proud
built to last

how welcoming are the smiles outside the doors
along with petals of carnations and the bright flighty confetti
from yesterday’s wedding.

I feel no empathy once I enter

only echoes

cold

Is it any wonder
I don’t welcome death
if this is the chill I’ll feel?

So burn me in a forest
let the winds take me!

Let me breathe again …

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