didn't get it. I sat there listening,
and I just didn't get it.
No background voice came to
guide me. No glowing light
surrounded my impression of
an angelic face.
So, was I missing something, or was
I ultimately a bad and sinful person?
Wait a second, was that the beginning
of an encounter? No, just someone
opening the door to the church, behind me.
A someone, like me, trying to hear that
elusive voice, see that emblazoned face.
Well, I've sat here long enough. Time to get
along. Time to reenter a world of living,
dying, hoping and losing.
Until next Sunday, then.
One day though. Perhaps.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An interesting and well written piece