Reaching For The Good Light
A poem
Sometimes I wonder
If it was Andrea Gibson reading the good news
From the pulpit of a church
Would I still believe in Jesus?
Like the sun
Her words could illuminate a room and the truth
Like the sun
I will never touch her place in the heavens
But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep reaching
-
If Rudy Francisco started a brotherhood
Maybe I would join for a sabbatical
As long as he never took a vow of silence
Let his words echo off the stones
Of our hearts
Put a microphone to our chests
Hear the beat of a new hymn
-
If Padraig Ó Tuama
His voice dripping with honey and peace
Convened a circle in Sunday school
I might have felt the love
Of a God unbound
By Dogma’s leash
-
Out of church walls, I listen to the stars
Reasoning my way to the First Cause
Because I want to believe in a god
But hate the one I was given
Loathe the hatred He inspires
The rotting hearts He inflamed
-
That God
Has been buried
Under a mountain of lies
A shroud of the finest hypocrisy
And there is no one left
To lift the rock from His tomb
-
So I look for apostles of poetry
Beyond the man made darkness
Listen to epistles
That claim no divine inspiration
Yet they are divine
Lit by a spark of painful joy
Ready to ignite the world
About the Creator
Sean A.
A happy guy that tends to write a little cynically. Just my way of dealing with the world outside my joyous little bubble.
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