NaPoWriMo 2016: Day Three


In God’s house,

There is a stone faced preacher

Somewhere in God’s house

There is a respectable congregation

Dressed in modesty

Swaying respectfully

Singing hymnals written for their space in God’s house.


In God’s playground,

There is a wicked guitar solo

Somewhere in God’s playground

There is a rabble of honest sinners

Cooking barbecue slowly

Drinking their beer cheaply

Loving life constantly

These people make sport from chicken shit!

They make holy places of shade

All here is sacred

Maybe because none of it is

And yet

It is in these places

I have found God


And again

And again

And again



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