General Poetry posted September 11, 2009 |
search for faith from birth until now
Continual Conversion
by dragonpoet
Of my birth, in March, I don't remember
Though Mom said it was more like December. In Saint Colette's I was welcomed wearing white To begin to understand wrong from right. In the beginning my only savior was the cop Who with ice cream my tears did stop. Into his front seat I was lightly tossed. He took me home when I was lost. In Ohio, I went to Catholic school Where I confessed breaking the Golden Rule. At eight, not knowing what sin comprised, In my first confession I may have lied. Many Hail Marys and Our Fathers were said Before I stuck out my tongue to take the bread. Here I learned some songs and petitions But not how to say the "Act of Contrition". This was the time the church was changing At nine, this is what I noticed rearranging During the communion prayers bells stopped ringing During the holidays there was less carol singing Also more people now helped the priest The Eucharist lines were faster at least The prayers once spoken were now sung And the host taken in hands and not on the tongue I never went to CCD or Sunday School, So how did I learn the Catholic rules Or the stories from The Good Book. For religious education where did I look To the Christmas and Easter TV shows And the holiday poems, songs and prose Also the Bible Crosswords I sometimes do Provide me with a periodic review. After a few years back in Illinois Getting to Church became less than a joy. There was always a Sunday morning fight About whether it was wrong or right To attend mass in stained holey jeans Or in clothes clean and pristine. Some times I wished I'd yelled "Who Cares?" God doesn't, as long as we are there. It became an understood weekend routine That a McLean could never be seen Shaking a priest's hand after church Without the police mounting a search. Finding us at home, already out of the car Sidling up to Dad's cookie/milkshake bar, Where they could arrest and book the tribe For offering and accepting unhealthy bribes. In High School came the first of my falls. First Christmas and Easter than not at all. In college there were better things to do Like homework, parties and drinking cold brew. I couldn't find a church, though I barely looked. So on Sunday morning other things were booked Like returning from home to college dorm Or cleaning up my roommate's storm. After I graduated and later married With returning I often parried. Whether for me or for future generations, I kept getting the distinct sensation That to organized religion I should return And the bridges between us should burn. Saint Julie's I quietly began to attend So the deity I'd no longer offend Somewhere, some one must have pulled a trigger For I shot into Saint Michael's with such vigor. For a year I went to RCIA to relearn The tenets and creeds to help me discern If I could rededicate heart and mind To a religion I thought I couldn't find. The classes led me on my merry way Down the path towards Confirmation day. This scenario may seem all well and good But things didn't go as smoothly as they could. My next fall was The Pedophile mess When I left the church in some distress At how men could bandage this canker sore Letting the victims suffer all the more. But again I found a reason to come back From Father Tim's singing sermons I felt a lack When things seemed to be just peachy keen It became time for fate to intervene. A church error slapped me in the face When a letter kicked me out of my place. And diet excommunicated me from the Eucharist As with a wheat allergy I was kissed. I felt strange sitting alone in my pew While the others joined the Communion queues. At somewhat of a mystical disconnection And feeling it time to seek a new direction., I renewed my own religious education By attending churches of all denominations. Methodist, Lutheran, Episcopal, Baptist I found, in the end, I'd remain a Papist. I've rediscovered my religious home And I will no longer have to roam dragonpoet |
Faith Poetry contest entry
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