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The Redemption of the Dove


By Brian Wong Published about a month ago 1 min read

On the white pillar of the auditorium, there is a dove feather.

There is a protruding stone.

Touching the stained glass windows, sculptures, domes.

Touching the scriptures, candlelight, and many voices.

If the garden cannot plant my youth, it must be guilty.

The bench I passed by sat on confession, from the nameless spire,

white, black, the same color as a piece of silk.

If the garden forgets the melancholy of the cemetery, it must be guilty.

When the next group of prayer pants walks by the violet, new scriptures will sound.

Give the redemption of sincerity to the dove that once rested on the pillar.

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About the Creator

Brian Wong

Hello, I'm Brian Wong , a 29-year-old aspiring writer dedicated to weaving captivating stories that resonate with the depths of human experience.

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Comments (3)

  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarranabout a month ago

    "If the garden forgets the melancholy of the cemetery, it must be guilty." I especially loved that line. Such a beautifully written poem!

  • Anna about a month ago

    I loved that you weaved a complete lesson around a dove's feather.

  • Esala Gunathilakeabout a month ago

    Your writing was so philosophical.

Brian Wong Written by Brian Wong

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