Jupiter and Semele

transposed on this liquid blue sky, icons strung like lights
pillars carved with angels, cherubs, demons, ghosts
fashioned from gold
rubies shadow serene faces
silver ropes frayed and shedding their infinite tales
to these stained marble floors, mirroring the blood of the lamb
hung in repose with the flashes of the divine illuminating this chamber
were walls speak in motifs
floors silent and meditative
ceilings abounding in the light of silver and bronze
casting shadows of redemption across the pews
angels wings conceal the dark interiors
grey columns bearing the weight unnoticed
like the stems of roses, cursed for their thorns
soft silk passes inches above the ground
candles weeping wax and stuttering
incense lifts the shadows to new places
stirring the thoughts and forcing nostalgia

I sit in silence, firmly watching the image of Christ
the stained glass blackening from clouds
disturbing the light
the heavy doors allow others to enter
I see only Christ
pale and flowing in white cloaks
eyes affixed on impossible reaches
gazing out as if sorrowful in hope
lamenting something deeper than we can understand
the loss of humanity
the empty tombs of hope,
left to wither with light and incense and fear