Voysez ov Rawks

The steeple of the church is a silhouette
Against a dark, blue sky
And for as long as nights as old as memory
The stars haven’t shone out this far
So is it any wonder the shadow seems so dense?
The darkness closes in
Rises from the bottom like flood waters of ink
The lines of depth threatening to blot us out
To bleed through every page
When suddenly we notice the eastern sky aglow
The sun breaking the horizon
The color isn’t warm, but it’s clear
Light washes over the silhouette
Definition emerges out of a blur
The bell-tower rings loudly, finally
Like the worship voices of rocks and stones


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