Solitude of the Pandemic

Taking a walk through the aisle, This used to be the mass convergence of congregants. Now here lies the solitude of the dead silence; The quietness of the graveyard more hilarious than this. The massive edifices of such a glorious moment as today Sunday: The melodious renditions from the angelic choristers, The soothing hymns of John Newton, Horatio Spafford, Reginald Heber, The gaiety and the adorable well-rehearsed body movement of the pious worshipers, The sobriety of their Christlikeness, The brevity of the priest, and his cheerful psychedelic charisma and the dignified homily All absent! Here lie the empty pews and the pulpit Here lies the tambourine fallow. A walk through the aisle To sound a note on the piano Sends memorable retrospect of the good old times cut off by covid 19 A little walk through the aisle To say hello, testing the microphone, “Hallelujah somebody”, praise God! And the echo of my voice with resounding silence, Send shivers on my spine about the solitude of this glorious place of carnival. And truly their absence! A step through the aisle, Stood I motionless to behold and to ponder That life loses its value in the absence of friends and loved ones.