Will work for Faith.
by Dorian Black
No one knows better than me
that the sleeve, where I wear my heart,
it dirtied with the ashes
of the bridges I've burned.
And it's clear from the construction signs
that I need to board up
these drafty revolving doors.
I can see the rain
is my lady luck
doing her damnedest to keep me
out of the confessional booth.
I was never good with mesh screens
and pulpits, altering the way God's voice sounds,
even when my own has forgotten to pray for
what seems like forever, now.
It seems there is no accounting for taste
when faith leaves this taste in my mouth.
I guess someone forgot to tell me
that you're supposed to hold your breath
when they baptize you.
I search now for the warning signs,
with my eyes looking to the skies for answers.
I swear I heard the clouds whisper, "I Love You Son,
and change is coming, just check your pockets
for loose disdain; we'll exchange it for the rain,
so that you can confess again.
Posted on 08/04/2012
Copyright © 2022 Dorian Black
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/05/12 at 03:24 AM|
"I was never good with mesh screens
and pulpits, altering the way God's voice sounds," - my favorite lines in this. Thanks!
|Posted by A. Paige White on 08/05/12 at 04:34 PM|
Enjoyed this very much!"I guess someone forgot to tell me that you're supposed to hold your breath when they baptize you." is my favorite part. Personally I know nothing about mesh screen confessionals but am pretty sure I prefer mine over a cuppa coffee with somebody that can relate. Thanks for titling this that way. I always forget I can't earn it so if I never earned it how do i lose something i never earned in the first place? If you ever get a chance to get to a Kathie Walters meeting check it out. You might find out how much fun faith can be!
|Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/16/14 at 10:16 PM|
The Bible tells us faith comes by hearing and hearing comes from the Word of God. Your poem suggests looking up. That is to the good. Looking to the Bible in simple heartfelt prayer is better yet. God bless you as you seek. A poignant poem of discontent.