Stained Glass

I sit in the silhouette of the stained glass

In pristine breaks of colorful glory just the same

Everything the light touches made beautiful

A full-spectrum to behold

Another Sunday, pretty white socks with bows bigger than my ankles

A wide blue brim rising and falling with the rhythm of the choir

You study the book, I study my hands

Deliberate markings of you

Are found in my features

The depth of my honey brown riddled with beauty marks

That rise in small pillows of black polka dots scattered on the landscape of my skin

I sit in the silhouette of the stained glass

In pristine breaks of colorful glory just the same

Everything the light touches made beautiful

A full-spectrum to behold

“You look just like your father” the wide blue brim occasionally turns to remind me

In case I got lost

The pleased smile spreads slowly over her red lips

I giggle at the red stain stretched against her stark white teeth

On cue, comes the collection plate

A sea of green, reminding me that there’s always an ask

It topples over as I toss my quarters on top

The shiny silver coin my only slither of entertainment- now surrendered

as I sat and whispered “heads or tails” to anyone who would listen

As the big brown organ bellowed like a bears rumble after winter

I’m back to studying my hands as everyone bows their head in prayer

Unsure of what to say I find the small beige island on my wrist and decide today that I’ll name it Delilah

My own belly rumbles thinking of our pizza ritual

Every Sunday, watching the orange grease slide off of the folded slice

I decide that I like this place

With its stained glass windows

Coloring my imagination to the sound of the choir

Studying the landscape of myself riddled with the flavorings and colorings of my family

I can't decide where their features may sprout

But I claim and name each one for myself

In the myriad of colors

And stained glass windows