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| Hymn Book |
No one knows why the flock flew away
the only chorus heard now is the cooing
of homing pigeons, carrying notes
between the sky and earthly world
once there were songs that lifted the rafters
the old piano could be heard from far away
people came to dance and clap their hands
rejoicing in the harmony of the day
perhaps, too many dreams died and faith
drifted away with each broken heart
the road to love too difficult to travel
the music too painful to hear
light still shines through the stained glass
warming the emptiness felt deep inside
there are hymns of life waiting to be sung
if only the shadows of darkness would cease
perhaps, a broken hallelujah, is better than none
written for The Sunday Muse