Congregation

Thu, 03/02/2017 - 11:53 -- marenv

 

I look out into the congregation of individual souls,

Temporarily blinded by the whites and yellows on the horizon,

A feeling of peace and content;

I look out into the congregation of individual souls.

Closest to myself, a soul that burns brightest,

On the edge of her seat, craning to see a fairytale come to life.

A wink and a smile exchanged.

She turns to face her mother and laughs.

I look out into the congregation of individual souls.

My gaze commanded by a dimmer soul, left untouched for some time.

Left untouched until it looks up, looks up, and sees a full spectrum of color,

Waving in the wind.

I see as his eyes brighten and remember a time long ago,

when he felt as if he could fly.

I look out into the congregation of individual souls.

With my gaze settling on a soul flickering,

Not letting go of the young, but approaching fate.

Seated next to the soul, bright as a star.

When the fictional family begins to unravel,

They pull one another close remembering their own time of need.

I look out into the congregation of individual souls,

My job is done.

A story told, a gift given.

Completing my charge of inspiring those who have come before me

And those who will follow.

I am blinded again; but not but the whites and yellows of the horizon.

This time by the color and luster of souls.

A feeling of peace and content,

I look out into the congregation of individual souls.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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