SIlence

 
Silence in the church
a sound all its own,
the oak door closed,
all in silent stillness,
gilt altar and muted bell,
host lit by candle-light
in the Lady Chapel
an empty congregation,
kneelers to ease our humility.
The organ with empty lungs
pipes, lead and grey,
come Sunday it will speak.
A bible, embossed in leather
on the lectern's polished brass
book mark hanging loose.
Closed in the vestry, vestments
hang damp. blue and white
In cobweb solitude,
surplices on the floor
thrown by careless choristers
rushing home at eight.
Foot-steps on the stone flagged Nave
creep silent between pews
waiting Sunday worship, confessions.
bread and wine and crinkling toffee papers,
to keep the children quiet.
Hold your breath, ignore your heart,
stand still and hear the silence,
it has no pitch or key.