I worship in the alcoves

Shelves bowing, laden with stories

Of life, of loss, of love, of friend and foe

Of man himself, fragile and enduring

I worship in the dark room

Seats in neat rows

Darkness illuminated...and darkened

by the images on the vast screen

I pray with pen to paper

fingers to keys

Creating a past, a present, a future

with stories true and not

My sanctuary is the journey

into the stories of another

words, images, sounds

of life, of death

one comes to know the soul this way

how similar, how different

how limited, how infinite

how delicate, how durable

Devoted am I in this worship

Enshrouded am I in these prayers

Here I find comfort and hope

and misery and despair

The voice of the soul

the agony, the bliss

is found right here

here.... in this

©2016 Nadia Romanov

  (image source: Google search)

Make a free website with Yola