A small mission church with motley voices
Of people from here, from there, everywhere
off-key, perhaps? but with enthusiastic flair!
Together, we sang the way that rejoices.
CDs and speakers carried the tune
giving Sunday songbirds inspired guide
to cherished hymns vigorously applied.
Music and voices joined in joyful boon.
Don’t sing five verses, just four!
At five, we stopped, old deaf Fred still sang
for two notes, then joining voices rang,
in seconds, an a cappella roar.
We all joined as one harmonious choir,
stubborn voices in the desert on fire.
Sharp pin pricks your little toe,
nerves jump up to warn of pain,
with an electrical flow,
that leapfrogs up to the brain.
Raw energy spikes the sky
bright lances impale the ground,
skyrocket surges on high
in quick lightning earthward bound.
Leaping the empty spaces,
the rising current between
soaring path to the unseen.
Victoria Crawford and George W. Ross are writing partners who met and live in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Both have a keen interest in spiritual life and share it in these poems. George and Victoria have had poems published collaboratively and separately in journals such as Time of Singing, Coldnoon, Penwood Review, as well as performing as featured readers at the Magic Poetry Theatre.