Pentecostal Gloss - Original Spoken Word Poetry

[raj808]

Pentecostal Gloss

An eloquent hush, like the hollow space before an exhalation.
Puissant, penitent murmurs, echo from mounting waves,
sandstone monoliths, formed in an age before God was born.

Fluted pipes call the worthy to prayer. In blessed upheaval, gold gilt epithets surround Christ, crowned with stained glass, casting ephemeral light drawing the faithful to mass.

While in the corner he hangs,
pegged out in the wind. Washing
drying in the heat of belief.
Hollowed out, bored, enlaced
by a millennia of termites warring,
a Teak schism in that dead space.
Now, petrified, empty, drained.

Meanwhile, priests smile warmly,
mothers hug children to their breasts.
The hallowed space wells up with the call,
stained glass casts azure frost, pentecostal Gloss,
to annul the yearning, to make sense of it all.

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The photos used in this post and the YouTube poetry reading are my own original photography.

If you have enjoyed this poem you can check out my other work on my homepage @raj808. Thanks for reading/watching 🙂🌿

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