Mural of Mortar

 by Coni T Poni

The church door

half opened

half afraid

Inviting my

spirit of inquiry

inside.

Polished

and

wholly weighty

to the eye,

the church door

I can

not

ignore.

Tip toeing

on the

very tip

of my toes

Shielding

the

sudden

shame

of my black

high heels

Leaving

sin

outside

Leaving

little sin

outside.

Pure

and agog

my mind

making room

for nurture

of the

chalice

inside this giant

gold scented mural

of mortar.

Marble

and polish,

Ivory

and oak

entice my

Piano fingers

to touch.

I am awakened

inside

the

purist

my mind

has been

since

innocence

flew hand

on groin

with

my hurried

adolescence

I am

awakened

for the

first time

inside my

new

and unfamiliar

pure mind

since

shamelessly

tip toeing

inside

this giant gold

scented mural

of mortar

Awakened

by sight

of

flesh  painted

semi-naked

apostles

and

one

sorrowful

blue veiled

female effigy.

She

hoards

repentant tears

and

sacred baby

in arm.

I am

awakened

by the

Mural

of camaraderie

amongst

the flawless

semi- naked

apostle murals

the  depth

of angst

beyond

their

diamond eyes

and

holy

divine mercy

 in the

opening

of their

pleading

tainted

arms.

Inside

this giant gold

scented mural

of mortar,

pain

does not

elude the guest.

A place of peace

drowned

in the

shallow pit

of sorrow

Peace

shall

not

be

with

you.

A curtain

of black

fronting

the box

that divides

the guest

between sin

and

all forgiveness.

Station nine;

A crown

of blood stained

thorns

embalmed  in guilt

confessed

and bound

of all sin

Sin for living

Sin for loving

Sin be as nature as

bark on tree.

Lust is

far beyond

I now.

I asked

not of death

for my sins.

The box

at station nine

tunnelling

behind the

curtain of black,

be my

object of virtu.

I confess

my

spartan

shame

in a box

inside

this giant

gold scented

mural of mortar.

My spartan shame;

A lack of faith

and little guilt

for

death

by daeity

© Coni T Poni 2012