I imitate the call of a devotee.
My voice
in the silence
axes the chains of time,
conjures swirls,
arcs,
waves of ether.
Visitors who never walk this earth
wake me from dreams
they bring homeliness from a distant universe
warmth.
their chancel blessings circulate.
This Lady Chapel cracks
fragments of coloured glass cover sacristy and altar
– cream, silk-red, hard to the fingertips.
A grey, wool curtain seals the room
the door is latched.
In the shadows, I believed I was alone
– a lightsome saint transfigures my prayers.
Ashley Bovan 
This piece is so enchanting. I read it over and over.
great – thanks 🙂