Written by Matthew Tolbert
Published in “Seasons of Change, Volume X!” and “Storyteller” Magazine.
Holy Night
A lone white candle holds the shrinking flame
That keeps night's darkness from the altar's
cross;
A shadow rests behind a silver chalice.
The wind's temperate sighs still whisper
heed,
Resembling yesterday's forgotten choirs.
A Bible's closed, too tired to preach; it
sleeps,
Collecting dust. The statues seem relaxed
Though they protect the cold and empty pews.
The echoes linger from the Sundays gone
And I feel the peacefulness of God.
