Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                        Disturbances in Church

The more I am disturbed by liturgical novelties
The less I am disturbed by God

The less I am disturbed by liturgical novelties
The more I am disturbed by God

All of which is logical, not odd

Our connection,
is a pale moon above
and stars that shine
they are yours as they are also mine,
we feel the grey of falling rain
the warmth of joy
and the chill of pain,
we live we love, we laugh and we die
with the same yellow sun
and the same blue sky

Can you hear my voice
screaming into the void?
Can you feel me loving you
in the silence?
Do you know me
in the blur between seasons,
when time loses meaning,
and memories breathe like now?

Like rainfall
On a windowpane,
So crystalline, so clear,
Sliding down
As teardrops
To slowly reappear,
As puddles
In my misery,
To seep away
With time.
But emotively,
Your cloudburst,
Paints these
Fresh teardrops....
As mine.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
10 August 2025