I wonder at those who quietly devote themselves
to a God who is everywhere in everything they do/see/hear
I don't see it
everywhere
I don't hear it
everywhere
there is a tin-like hollowness to this
God may be somewhere but He is not right here even in those
who profess to believe in Him
especially when they lack a certain
sincerity in their righteousness
Those who do keep their promises
are not Saints but men
and women,
flawed,
bound to fail
unfettered by any expectation
what do they care
even
though they profess to
though they protest to
I have seen this
I have been at the opposite end of
false Brotherly professions
and therefore,
I have no more illusions
nor expectations
I know
we are all Sinners
in this realm
No more Latter Day Saints will come
once more
insistently knocking at my door
with nets and smiling faces
and prayers and blessings
and grinning love goo-googly-galore
your false charity is not wanted
it has a price
I do not have
a big enough purse for.
Copyright 2/22/2015 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
M.A. Howells Straight from her Tilt-a-World
All Poetry/Rants/Prose/Ideas are the Legal Property of this Writer