Trappings and Reminders
Early in the morning,
you sit in the back of the church
The sanctuary no less sacred empty
God always waiting
and the broken.
I imagine him smiling
in the knowledge that every place is a sacred place,
and those like me who come,
lacking the ability to see,
and come here, to the place of trappings and reminders
to open themselves
to the God of everywhere
and let him in.
About this poem.
The picture was taken in my church.
I love churches. I even preach in one. But I am not such a fool to think they are the only place we encounter God.