Jewelled to sky

the dome rises on

in painted echoes,

as if to guide beyond trappings to clear blue truth,

its vaunted space

flowered by song

reaching sunward

like jasmine breath,

A choir through fire.

Detecting quickened rhythm in familiar chests

I turn time's pages

slow and stilled.

We wait.

The wine's burn lingers

as we break cover,

a thin procession

with banners concertinad from backpacks

around the dais.

NO FAITH IN FOSSIL FUELS,

CHURCHES DIVEST.

Uncovered, the cross

and hourglass bind us together.

From the pulpit

the words we chose

swell and swim

through silence.

Heart full,

absorbing welcome,

I open eyes on applause,

unsuspecting that police

are on their way.

"Hello, Susan, all right?"

Tall in black, the officer's

in charge,

wants us gone

by Church request.

Though we turn no tables,

no further congregations

will be admitted

while we remain.

Like a flock at gunshot

the gratitude for our

reminder

has taken flight.

Billions my head can't hold

could fund life,

could warm without inferno.

We stay,

letters in the post and

arms linked,

offer the police cordon

Amazing Grace,

words fudged but line held

in quietest soar.

The glue I hid

has sealed

connections now.

Outside they expect a stream

of burdens lifted

in sacrifice

for media lens.

Instead through the Crypt

around clandestine corners

and one by one

we're secreted away.

In custody

the smiles have roots,

branch free.

I select from Faith and Practice,

read aloud,

fill with kinder light,

sing about standing for love

(even with a broken soul,

even with a heavy heart

I stand for love)

I honour every one

I hold dear

and dare alone, uncluttered

and at peace,