sunlight sparkles in dust motes
sent swirling by a stray wingflap
ancient stone floors tap-tap-tap
mutedly under layers of moss and leaf

the wooden pews have rotted soft
chipmunks and robins their only visitors
light enough to rest on the weakened benches
and have no comprehension of religion

ivies and wildflowers peek around walls
cautiously sneaking over the floor
exploring their discovered ruins
with all the time in the world

a pulpit, an altar stand still
keeping stewarding watch
over the greening sanctuary
and the mice that nest there

all this splayed beneath a bright rainbow glow
casting golden amber, ruby, sapphire, emerald
between the shadows of swaying branches
from the crumbling stained-glass window