questions where you don’t know the answer,
those that can go horribly wrong, alert others to danger,
to culpability, to retribution, to a finding of guilt
No, you don’t ask those kind, their ilk; you avoid them
She knows too, in her line of work, her calling, to serve the Lord
that they are dangerous, unscripted, unnerving, all too prone
to grab the spotlight, grab the wheel or the rudder,
to pilot the plane, or at least her plan, into the ground
Yes, I am talking of a pastor and the children of the congregation
clustered within the expectancy of Christmas Eve, down in the chancel
for the impromptu questioning of a pastor, in “Children’s Time”
Maybe the title of that portion of the bulletin should give a hint,
or give pause; but not this morning
Maybe she felt safe with these children, not quite as secular as the maddening crowd
but they answered in kind, from the tip of the neon reality of Christmas all around.
“Who is coming tonight?” between the Advent wreath lighting and
the reading form Luke Chapter 1.
Naturally, the response was, _______________.
Go ahead, you can fill in the blank as well as I; It was the bearded one
not the swaddled babe in the manger, that was the first retort, almost in unison
With a bit of prompting, they came around; But
She asked again before the prayer, the benediction of the children’s time.
And, … , yes, it was Santa who was coming, once again.
And Jesus too. Thank God. Amen.
December 24, 2006 14:41
All of my
poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005,
2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013. All rights reserved. Contact me
at Ray Foss
for usage. See all 26,380+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
No comments:
Post a Comment