poem: sunday morning, 9am

10 Sep

Sunday morning, 9AM


a preacher 
	stands
at the pulpit
his fist held
	high
trembling
revelation

Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Etcetera - Amen!

his congregation:
	moves		with his words
	flows		with his passion
	divine		the improbable

a young girl
	just past 18
	just past innocent
	just past the legalities
	a number might imply
sits in the back row
center aisle
lips quake
tears spill

the preacher -
a handsome man
with delicate features
a car salesman during
the week because
Christ cannot pay all the bills -
spins the tale
	Hallelujah!
tells the story
	Hallelujah!
paints the picture
	etcetera
	etcetera 
		- Amen!
		- Amen!

in each chest
  each vein
  each heart
  each soul
of every parishner
every sinner
every congregate gathered
vibrates with the power and the glory
forever and forever, 
Amen, sister, Amen

until this girl
this girl in the last row
center aisle
until this girl in the last row, center aisle
stands on wavering knees
and points

preacherman stops
stares
mouth agape
thoughts aghast

another girl
	stands
another girl
		stands
another girl
			stands
 
he turns to the Cross of Christ
falls to his knees
a shot cries out
the congregation rise as one
the organist begins
to play 
	How Great Thou Art

and life
simply
goes on
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