Half-Shut
It’s Sunday, and I’m tired
Somewhere the Gospel’s being read
And someone’s teaching from it
Good words, I’d like to think
I am here and writing differently about
A story that won’t be read in church
Not to sour-grape it
I don’t mind the anonymity
My story’s sad and uninspiring, unless
One needs to hear about
A mundane struggle, mostly secular
The seeking of good news inside one’s head
Though it’s not there
Not in the neighbor’s heart, either
It’s in the book
It’s in the neighbor’s heart
It’s in my head
(My heart, too)
But I have to hear
With two sets of ears that hear
In case the first set’s not so functional
(If you didn’t know, the deaf tend
To hear better)
Until something is opened
Nothing is going to happen
That’s the capacity that’s missing
And the action
They are there
It’s simple access, really
Like most things, altruism, sympathy,
Or sacrifice,
It’s made
It happens
With a choice
And on a tired day
When Sunday best is not enough
(It rarely is)
When the soul is split between awakening
Or remain embraced within the monolith
Half-shut is still half-open
And sides are being called for
Final play
Choose this day
Choose, this day
C L Couch
image courtesy of Charlotte Zoller
https://www.mfa.org/programs/music/millennium-gospel-choir-1
May 1, 2018 at 10:09 am
Uuu, impressive.
May 1, 2018 at 7:28 pm
Thank you for reading and responding!