Worship

 I awaken to the sultry sound of far-off bells, beckoning the faithful to come and bend a knee, join in a silence and consider somebody worthy...

I lift my eyes up hoping to see you, wanting the stained-glass to be burnt a dark brown and when the light pours in I imagine a stare...I murmur your name like a prayer, the words alighting from my lips and ascending to your ear...a heaven's distance away.  I clench my hands together, almost painfully, as I want to rip them apart and clutch you...but you are far so I hold onto myself in the hopes of saving them for you some day.

A basket is passed, brimming with people's money...I am tempted to reach in and snatch as much as I can, and maybe buy a ticket for a plane or a ride on a bus and come to you...instead I merely pass it on to the people beside me.  We stand and we chant and we kneel some more and we sit...I think unholy thoughts and immediately ask for forgiveness only to start it over again...so I close my eyes and all I can see is your face.

I read from the books and I believe...I believe that in them I get the same feeling from you...the peace, the courage...the love.  

I sing, not well, but joyfully...I want you to hear the words we lift up...I change and insert your name in certain portions and I feel even better in my bad singing.

We conclude...we rise...we stream out, gently yielding to others as they depart...I take my time, enjoying the growing silence...it reminds me of you...this peaceful empty beautiful building...not physically...but of how you make me feel...how you descend upon me and let me falter and fail...a save...a temptation.

The wicked thoughts I conjure up...the confessions I make...the penance of our separation.

I finally depart...moving from a tiny place of worship out into a world where everything I see reminds me of you.