Going to Church

So I’m raised to believe one way
raised up southern baptist style
and still recovering, my pun
my heart tells me different
so I search
dogmas to left
dogmas to the right

to question, to ask
deep meanings
feelings, thoughts
to those in the hierarchy
getting pat answers
script and opinions
viewpoints scattered
in the wind
depending on—
their personal whims

depending on where you live
the first question chirped
“where do you worship?”
I answer with…
“do you want a noun or verb!”
If I say my house, my car
walking in the woods
why do you frown
show me disdain
do you ask me if I pray
meditate or go
to that special place
do you invite me to
go to church
within four walls
stained glass windows
and the such
ceremony, incantations
readings and song
do you ask if I watch the words
before—
they come off my tongue
do you ask me how I’m doing
truly listening to my answer

I let you speak
watching the words
tumble over your lips
are your eyes meeting mine
when you spout
rehearsed verbiage

do I feel you?
do I see you?

I will when…

your exuberance on your Sunday
moves you so
when I see it on Monday, Tuesday
on it goes
when you dance to hallelujah
moving to the beat
when your ghost that’s holy
dosen’t frighten you so

seeing is believing
so I’m told, as with
perception is reality
to others, good as gold

tenets, commandments
written all over the world
and yet we
rarely come together
from across the globe
blaming, shaming
kicking and screaming
crucifying a difference
on the same path we go
believing, faith
different than yours
hard or difficult
your soul knows

you want to follow
when you should lead
being a beacon
written so
conversations with God
wanting peace and love

your path is yours
walk proudly
examples to all
human doing to
human being
live your life

toils of humanity fade
when you turn inside
seeing the dancing children
hand in hand
colors and shapes
mean not

remembering who you are
admittance to the gates
free on earth
centered up
living your personal relationship
outside your walls