“Church”

Church

by Dwight J. Friesen

Restless boy yanking at his neck tie
Flipping through hymnals, Bibles and Sunday School papers
No match for the sermon fidgets

Those warming the pews trade yawns
Waiting
For the last song and benediction

Long winded preachers
Dryer than Sahara
Compete with thoughts of roast chicken in the oven
And the football game about to kickoff

At last the final Amen is pronounced
The hope of home awakens
As the weary congregation forms a clergy receiving line
"Great Sermon"
"Thank you"
"I never thought of it like that before"

He has a way of gripping hands and looking in eyes that can melt a person

Like airplanes taxiing down a runway
Kids race the center aisle
Turning the sacred into a playground

Women reclaim their Tupperware and casserole dishes from last weeks potluck
A teenager in band hawks subscriptions
While one young couple remains seated

Her shoulders shake
He tries to comfort her
But their heads hang low

An older woman spots the couple
Slowly and with great effort makes her way to their side
Offering a tissue and a gentle hand on the knee

This is the church
And she's beautiful.

Peace, dwight