Midnight In The House Of Love

He awoke

from a dream to a dream

and saw himself

alone amongst the ruins

as shafts of blue-gray midnight

pierced the darkness

through faded stained glass scenes

of love's once glorious ascension

and shone their celestial stage light

upon a battered altar

where worship and communion

once held in gratitude of blessings

now stood deserted

littered with artifacts 

of another lifetime's remembrance.

In solemn processional 

his every footstep screamed through the empty hall
and ordered sleeping memories of laughter 

and solemn promises of forever

to begin their nightly haunting

and suddenly he knew 

this place

this was where 

he lived

this was where 

he worshiped all he was given

this was where 

all was lost

and suddenly he knew

there would be no more hymns of love

confessions heard or contrition offerings

or sermons on forgiveness

and suddenly he knew

how no good could come 

from the wreckage of this place

and what he must do

gather it all

pile it high with memories

promises and shattered bits 

of heart and soul

burn it down

till the rising mourning flames 

are glory bound

dance the healing dance

watch the funeral pyre burn

while ghosts rise and wail

each one in turn

burn it down

all of it

walk away

and don't look back

so he did
and as he left
he sang to himself

"The way you made it, 
that's the way it will be."

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014