By: Dreadlox33~

Sometimes I was known
As part of the stillness;
Dust falling on me
From a lost sermon.
And I had been known
To fall asleep as
The Man was talking
And awaken from
A prudent elbow-jab.
It happened still
That I corrected myself
And that same preacher was
Droning on and on …and I became
Quite proud that I was
Able to hibernate through
Most of his hyphenated anecdotes.
I’d been known to look
Around at the wooden carvings
And stone buttresses
And wonder how in God’s name
(Oh, I’m sorry)
How in the Hell … did some guy
Craft that mitered arch
And place a cross in the center?
Maybe he just had some
Extra wood and help that day.
Sometimes we’d talk in the alley
About the devil and hell;
And joke about where we might
End up…in the pit
Of a Black Sun; Or draw the pictures
Of satan with chalk in defiance
Of those “older guys.”
…but the devil always seemed depicted
With a grin on his face
And having more fun.
There were always plenty
Of “slow” people who showed up
And talked about their doctors
Appointments and hip replacements;
Pills and groaned when they got up.
…and then sure as the
Hell-of-red-carpet, we’d end up
Burying one of them the following
Week;  Below that mitered arch.
And through all this “hibernating”
And burying I one day discovered I was
Part of that stained wood and
Etched stone crafting.
It fell into place that we
Have to have a Day Seven to
Intersect the others and make
Sense of it all.
Even when it doesn’t make sense.
Even when that chalk-devil
Is part of my life.
I was always told God
Lived here …but so strange
I don’t see him much
…but I gotta believe
God lives here somewhere.
Probably in Florida;
There’s a lot of old people
…and eulogies expected down there.
~ …ian
~ 4-11-14