The Church

About a dying experience

I sat down in the pew at our family church,

It was the first time in a while,

Never before had I felt this way, my thoughts quite like a child’s.

Little sally green isn’t little anymore,

She out grew her sisters by five,

But her smiling, dimpled, pigtailed face was gone as she helped her mother walk by.

 

 The music starts up and we all stand,

But what is this I hear? Ta tum ta tum.

Not the sound of the old Bose organ, but a piano so fresh and so clear.

“Lucy Tuckett just passed away”. My mother quietly whispers,

I turn to the ground and shiver,

The air seems a little bit crisper.

 

As the priest makes his way up to the golden alter,

A sense of happiness fills my heart.

But then I see that this man who is a priest is not father VonDot,

He must have left some time ago, perhaps to help heal his father,

But no, as I think to myself once again he is helping his little brother,

Who lost both legs and all his hair,

To something he just couldn’t stand to bare.

 

He starts a homily of plenty,

And that leaves me to glance around the room.

The room that used to be so full of faces,

The room that used to hold no extra spaces,

For anyone was almost empty.

 

I used to play with the other children,

There were about thirty two.

Now as I strain my neck to look,

I only find four in the old, orange tinted pew.

 

The heads of women, who once possessed beauty,

Were now nothing but silvers and greys

A lot of them standing alone by themselves,

A lot of their spirits filled with pain.

 

This is not the church I remember at all,

None of the men stand up straight or tall,

This church will soon die, as I shed a small tear.

For the members are old and now filled with fear,

That the glory of God will not go on,

He is simply forgotten, he is gone.

 

I stand up from the pew at our family church,

It was the first time in a while,

Never before had I felt this way,

My thoughts quite like a child’s.

 

Author's Note

All comments welcomed. I just want to improve.