Churches

A Free Verse Dream

(note: this poem is from a collection I wrote for a project with my long-time partner and fellow writer Gracie Trueblood)

I dreamt of a church of brass and bass,
nothing of heave or hell, sin or virtue.
Well at leas not of brimstone sin, I will
admit to dreaming of good sinning in
this place. This place where the music
is warm and actually knows something
of the soul. And damn if that chorus isn’t
heavenly! A church of sax solos and funk
beats, a rock on which chords are built
and where a voice sings truth. And where
an encore brings it all down, where its
walls are blown out, where some “god”
is forgotten and the divines of the stage
can be seen and heard.

I dreamt of a church of music and love.