My consecrated masonry
crumbles and the bones of my joists
are split and splintered.
Grey light filters through shattered
slates and windows, chasing dry dust motes
through portals without doors.
Thick brick dust trickles.
My pointed arches barely
withstood destructive forces.
The only kindness I receive
is from pigeons cooing in my beams,
roosting in my ruins.
At least I give them shelter.
Kim M. Russell, 18th September 2016
Image found on www.abelard.org
My response to imaginary garden with real toads Following a Thread – Weekend MIni Challenge
Our prompt today is to think of a narrative when writing our poems, which don’t need to directly tell a story but, whatever we write about, we should try to follow through on its thread; even let that thread lead us, though it may not have a clear sense of where it is going. That’s what happened with the poem I have chosen to share, which I wrote on Friday at a two-day writing workshop I attended. The theme was acts of kindness in war and, for this poem, I chose an image from a selection of photographs from World War One. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find my picture on-line, so I had to search for something similar.
writing in north norfolk 
The battered old church lives and breathes through your words. I could see the dust motes in its weary exhalations.
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Thanks for reading, Rommy!
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I thought of the Birmingham, AL church bombing of September 1963 in which four little girls died–a different war of hate.
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I think it could be a church bombing anywhere at any time, really. Atrocities are atrocities. It was interesting to try to see it through the eyes of the building. Thanks for reading and commenting, Merril.
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This is just beautiful and so sad, Kim. The idea of the only kindness the cooing of the pigeons is very poignant. The reversal between the Lord’s children (destructive) and the pigeons, which we sometimes think of a pest for places like that but are offering succor, is really well done. Thanks so much. k.
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Thank you for reading and commenting. The Kindness Warriors’ workshop opened my eyes.
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I really like this voice you give the church, somehow I think we need to talk to ruins, so much carved in the masonry bones.
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I agree wholeheartedly, Bjorn.
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The church still gave comfort even though it needed comfort itself. Lovely story told through the building’s eyes.
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Thank you 😊
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Kim, this is so poignant – especially when viewed in terms of the crumbling church and the history of WWI — history is perhaps the most powerful story we have. Thanks for sharing.
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Thank you for reading, Stacie. I think this poem and another I wrote that I haven’t posted will be included in a film to be shown at the Imperial War Museum, London and Cinema City in Norwich. We have to finish filming some time in the next couple of weeks. It has been a fascinating project.
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How exciting! (Pre)Congratulations! 👍🎉
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😊
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That picture begs a story and you have told it with great empathy. I love the pigeons as congregation.
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Thanks Kerry!
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