The hallowed halls, the sacred rooms,
the special compass of the consecrated sweep of time.
The fetch, the stretch, the etch of bloom,
the flourishing of life midst light and grime.
The hallowed halls, the walls, the stalls, then falls
the ancient passage and the room once decked with gold;
Now spirit filled and crumbled round
the old time visage whispers bold
and cold with hold and life tenfold;
Oh, have you told!
this imagery of life untold.
The wispy light, the wavery forms,
The spirited shadows of a time before;
The wavery light and transforming clouds:
But light before the transformed light that warms.
That warms and roasts, and suns and toasts;
That drives the life unto its morrow;
This life shall now, with meaning plow,
Ignore the sadness upon its sorrow.
And all gathered then shall pause,
shall cause with all its laws and grand applause,
induce a breathing space, a time with life adorned with grace—
A pensive moment on our brief amplitude;
a timeless moment of a fortitude
a moment within a special place.
An altered world `tween life and light,
dash and flash, breath and death,
An echo here and now of that which was
and that which might yet come to be.
And here I pause to view and think,
with hush and rest, ken and zest,
Knowing that the moment here is gold
and tomorrow's no guarantee.
- D. Benning
