Act of Faith

Though I don’t believe,
I sit down anyway at my very own pew
in the Church of the Word.
I was ordained once,
in my office, but really in California;
push a button and become
a man of the cloth, the Good Reverend Denim.
Though I don’t believe,
I don’t believe my disbelief,
especially early in the morning
when the well is full and I can
see to the near edge of the galaxy,
and in the long slanting light of October,
when leaves are full of promise
and empty of life,
I sit with my toast and wait for God.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Poetry, photos, musing

Pin It on Pinterest