Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning short poem

Photo by jamieanne


God is waiting condensed within the church
for the mosaic of belief to arrive.

a mile away the minister is loosely holding
the steering wheel of his aged sedan

stunned by visions of dazzling supermarket aisles
barking abundance and glittering greed

he loaded his squeaky-wheeled cart
invited every face he saw to come hear the Word

then slipped into his car where the cinnamon scent
of day old pastries began to fold over him.

soon the coffee urns will begin to gurgle
bitter guts churning to perk up the faithful –

they come not to be fed or converted
but to be reminded – the comfort of community

warm fingers of a neighbor, singing off-key
with gusto the many names of the Lord.

God watches every member of the flock
their public smiles and private pursuits

builds himself piece by piece as they enter
messy and imperfect and full of life.

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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