It's so hot.

The priest's sermon-
whose warm voice so soft,
soothes the yearning ear,
encouraging oft,
for all to hear.
But the soul most dear.

And the poignantly silent Cross behind him.

People's voices-
rosaries, novenas,
strapping their arms,
but not their lips.
Heartily singing
or maybe snoring,
rising to the heavens,
but drowning my little own.
Like each sentence is simply a groan.

And the endless cars honking outside us.

Then in my little reverie, I yell:
Don't hush me!
When I pray to Thee,
all I want is Thy sympathy,
whose essence to a dry soul so empty,
would quench thousandfold a bounty!

Cries.
Then right beside my pew,
a light of unfurled color lies,
reveled by so few.

Then I look to the left,
facing the most mighty sun
shining on my burned cheeks,
on the blackest of hair,
closing my ****** eyes,
having a little fun.

Only one voice
of direction, of choice,
of just enough noise-
to brighten my day,
to go along with whatever may,
I am allowed to play!

And Mom tells me to keep silent,
before any wall gets a dent,
after I've learned what they've meant.

But, it's Sun-day.
The one light, the one love,
for the one me-

God allowed me to be.