The golden melodies float through the air
taking my breath away and thrilling me
from head to toe. Shivers of delight
course through my body as my God,
my black and ivory savior speaks.
Sometimes It roars in anger, or sings in prayer.
It screams with excitement or floats with thoughts
of love and peace. Only the priest, his hands
flying over his alter, can make It speak
as he wants It to. Silence from my God,
and my shrine fills with the thunder of
mere mortals praising my God, and His priest.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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