A Good Boy Poem by john tiong chunghoo

i was baptised a child
few weeks old
at an old church
ten minutes from home on foot
which grandma did
we did not have a car
just driven by a faith in christ
the cross rises so high up
it (the church) still stands today
given a facelight
turning from
a single storey
rectangular humble structure
to a round tall cathedral
only strong young men and women
could reach; alas those thirty forty
steps that have prevented mom
from going to church
too steep for old bones
i was told Christ is the Son of God
all 12 years of education
at an irish run missionary school
where chapel prayers, confessions
and important catholic days
filled the time table too
now swept by tide of time
a river where streams
and tributaries flow into
all the knowledge of the world
they threw me a koran
they threw me buddha's eight fold paths
they threw me bhagavad gita
all those crysal clear catholic teachings challenged
my world helter kelter
torn between heaven and hell
to be a good boy
to remain truthful
yet longing for the truth
in this blurred world
that shouts about miracles, god
from all angles