Decommissioned – a poem by Rosalind Adam

Decommissioned

Echoes of ancient hymns 
and hushed words of worship mingle 
with dust motes that float above obsolete pews. 
Only the kneeling pads, finely stitched
with names in elaborate script,
remain as proof of a long-gone parish. 

Outside, beside the lychgate, a For Sale board 
offers permission to convert,
not to some obscure religious cult
but to flats with plans for inner walls 
that would slice from nave to apse
creating compact homes for the retired. 

One flat would boast the chancel window,
its still-vivid stained-glass panels 
depicting Jesus surrounded by disciples. 
Here nights would be filled 
with the gentle harmonies
of hymns and Gregorian chants.

Another flat would contain the small side window
that some say was propped open for lepers
who, returning from Holy Land to lazar house,
would seek reconciliation and forgiveness,
the window allowing confession at a distance. 
Here nights would shiver with the uncanny.

Today the For Sale board leans
against a lichen-pocked headstone
whose inscription is worn smooth with age.
Potential developers have viewed, 
considered and declared the site unsuitable 
without quite knowing why.

Rosalind Adam’s poetry has been published in a variety of magazines including Allegro, Green Ink, The Copperfield Review, The Pomegranate, The Ekphrastic Review, and Under the Radar. She is the author of three children’s books and has had short stories and articles published in a number of UK periodicals. In 2018 she was awarded a distinction for her MA in Creative Writing at The University of Leicester.