His not quite pickled,
not quite unbelieving
litre beer glass shaped
voice
Snaked up out of the depths
Striking with a flat headed thump
Leaving a mark
that is not quite a wound
But has become a scar
A touchstone pock in the flesh of my faith.
Why
Why can’t
Why can’t we
Why can’t we be
Why can’t we be naked
Why can’t we be naked in
Why can’t we be naked in church?
Why – pretend the pretence of perfection?
Why – trade truthful tones for tedious tomfoolery?
Why – cram Omnipotent Creator in impotent canon?
He held himself
Not quite aloof
Not quite disdainful
Tears sloshing beneath a façade of derision
The beer – the excuse and cover
For that soul shriek
that tore across the table
and dissipated the smoke-filled air.
I fumbled an answer
To his beseeching
He subsided into his beer
The snake of his challenge withdrawn
But
That scar
Nearly three decades past
Still asks his question
Still comes to every service
As cup and bread are lifted and asks
Why can’t we be naked in church?
LKWHc21
