Memoriam, A Crumbing Church

I came up on this crumbling church
and saw a raven on its perch.

Glaring down through cracked stained glass
and broken headstones of the past.

On mossy lichened steps I lept
in to the vestibule I crept.

No Holy water to be found
to bless myself as I knelt down.

I turned my eyes to which the priest
once stood his ground and said his peace.

My conscience seized confessing sins
of guilty thoughts I need to mend.

The blessed host was all that's left
as I walked out I felt bereft.

A mist of sudden falling dew
cast a heavenly calm anew.

The steeple soared into the sky
then angels harmonized on high.