Burden of Song

The hymnal presses down in my hands—

a solid weight with peeling cover,

pages stiff like forgotten memories.

The church murmurs around me,

a low rustle like stones shifting.

I lift the book, finger the dog-eared corners,

the words inside heavy with quiet demands.

Each song a burden folded in thin paper,

something I’m not sure I want to carry anymore.

The weight stays,

pressing hard against my palms,

a silent prayer I’m not ready to answer.