What I See From The Middle Pew

It is dark, as if in a cavern:
In front of me, the orange eternal flame.  
Behind me, rows of burnished brass pipes, deep and thick
Like some ancient woods.
Above me, stretches of golden oak arch into the ceiling,
And on my left is Abraham, knife forever poised
Above young Isaac’s bare breast,
And on my right is the servant, forever on his knees, 
Forever washing feet, 
And something there is that wood and brass and flame can’t feel.
And something there is more immortal even than the stone.

About the Author: Laura C. Wendorff is professor of English, Ethnic Studies, and Women’s and Gender Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Platteville. She has been published in several journals, including After the Pause, Bluestem, Door Is A Jar, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Minetta Review, Sanskrit Literary-Arts Magazine, Schuylkill Valley Journal, Spillway, Temenos, Two Cities Review, Voices de la Luna, and Wisconsin Poets Calendar. Wendorff’s essay “Worth The Risk: Writing Poetry About Children With Special Needs” was nominated for a Best of the Net Award and the Pushcart Prize. Laura also enjoys growing flowers, playing the piano, and has been a member of the same book club for over a decade.