Writing Poetry in Church

I go to worship on Sunday mornings

With a searching and thankful heart

And when I see my girls beside me

Know full well, this is where we belong

At this time, in this place

But when the sermon runs long

Or the message is too loaded

With clichés

To touch the deepest part of my heart

My attention wanes

So I take pen in hand

To bulletin or offering envelope

Before the words fly away

Who’s to say these words

Aren’t shining through the sunlight

Whispered into my ear

By grace

Beaming through the stained glass

In the stories

That surround me

6-1-15

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