Скачать или смотреть Video Poem: "Almost" by Jay Phillips

"Almost" by Jay Phillips
I was almost Catholic years ago 
in a chapel I probably shouldn’t remember,
a chapel where the sanctuary air was kissed 
by the scent of creaking oak pews, where the drafts 
were weighed down with prayer and candlesmoke hope,
where floorboards and foreheads were glazed over with holy water,
and where stained glass glories held the holy spirit hostage in Jesus’ name;
Amen. 

I was almost Catholic before hymns
graced my ears and the choir turned my eyes 
into dripping fountains of sacrament, before my wails
joined the divine chorus in cacophony, before harmonies 
made themselves visible to my naked eyes, before I gazed upon
ichor and sapphire weaving through the air with levity, and before our Father
tangled two senses and declared all sound would be seen on Earth as it is in Heaven;
Amen.

I was almost Catholic until maternal sympathy
interrupted my mother’s will to worship the word her way;
until she led me from the chapel by the hand, wiped my tears
away, optimistically reassured me, “Don’t worry, we won’t return,”
and decided to give a less vocal, plain sect a chance; I did stop crying at hymns
when I couldn’t grasp the rhyme, reason, words, or worth; the good Lord seemed
to cease anointing my eyes with tears and synesthesia no longer overflowed. Mercy me;
Amen.

I was almost Catholic years ago
when melodies converted to silk communion wine red 
for every ‘A’ and halo-bright, Easter yellow for every ‘E’ right
before my eyes. I was almost Catholic, then those colors became dull, muted,
and still after leaving. I was barely Christian when they became vivid again after
losing my faith, shade by shade. Even so, watching music wield a paintbrush redefines 
‘divine’ in my awestruck, sonorous eyes as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be;    
Amen.