Empty Room.

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Purple cloths and statues,
reminiscent of Rome,
sacrament of golden bowls,
supped by modern maenads.
Blood of the lame Dionysus,
god of wine.

Does God reside within your echoes,
or massive limestone blocks?
Gold threads in priestly robes -
Mere reminders of pious poverty?
Inverted ecclesiastical exaggerations and mindful contrasts.
The people kneel in good faith.

The tongue of Rome no longer chants
the ancient charms, and other words,
contrived to stiffen slack belief
in those who hear.
The love of God inspired by fear
of future retribution.
The good people kneel in faith.

I’ve read the gospel words of Christ,
seen the wisdom, well disguised.
Many strange ideas have raced
around my head, in God’s own space –
that special little empty room,
kept clean and dusted, just in case.