How does a building become
more than four walls, a ceiling,
and a floor, held together
by something other than nails?
It was not alchemy
creating these sacred spaces–
places to gather, sing and pray
together unencumbered,
where the spirit could enter
and fill the air with light
you could see, shining
through the darkness
that descended again
and again. As rocks shattered
church windows, and flames of hate
burned through the night, the love-filled
light remained and endured
from generation to generation,
hidden deep within the hush
of hymns reverberating
across the heavens.
Churches constructed
along riverbanks,
helped with waterborne escapes,
becoming havens for all
who entered. Finding strength
through faith, within
the hallowed walls, worshippers
found solace there that no one
could ever take away.
There, resistance flowed
in a never-ending stream
of hope, pushing past the tides
of hate, toward lasting
liberation.
