Memories return my spirit to another place and time. That impoverished community of my birth, and its bastion of spiritual strength..New Bethel Missionary Baptist Church - Mounds, Illinois. A faded white, ramshackle building it was. Its stately support - a single metal bar fragilely binding leaning exterior walls together. In the child's perspective, providing a helping hand to others seemed its only mission. That priority driven sense of 'Church' is now long extinct, the distant relic of a once caring past. In its stead a masquerading pretense maliciously supersedes with mega churches...slick oratory..forked tongues...sleights of hand...'pomp-mobiles'....elaborate statues.....ornate structures - and other 'Christ-like' Images
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Christ like images. good poem. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.