Church Zone

Dream torn, I cartwheel to the place
Where the settlement takes.
In this zone, I am past
The litany of ecstatic errands.
My enthusiastic Yes takes me all the way home
Where I break bread for a new season.
Visiting the field out back— my glittering yard of light,
I can hear the organ-led choir ushering in New Days.
And this interior voyage plants me in a rocking chair
Alongside gardenias, my stone still planted
Under the magnolia.


Author: Cayce Tiedemann

Multidisciplinary artist and writer in Atlanta

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