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Trust is a limited currency
For those who have wronged us,
And the wall subconsciously built
In a day, can only be taken a part
Brick by brick,

But those who speak
For the force unheard,
Only proven to exist in a feeling
Or in the passed down book,
I think, are given too much credit.

Speaking for that which cannot speak for itself
Inherently is wrong, yet these priests
We give our trust
Despite the controversy
They always bring up

Speaking for not the god
That those sitting there
Came to hear about,
But speaking for those
There sitting.

Swaying and advising
The path they take and what direction
And nodding heads,
And right hands pointed to the sky
Tell you nobody pays much attention.

For a priest
Who preaches abstinence
And practices excess
On the underaged sons,
Open your eyes.

That stage shouldn’t be upheld
By one who sways people
Against one another,
But with the bible in the right context,
Anything could be directed towards anyone.

Limit your currency of trust
For those who prove
They deserve it,
The church can heal,
But my, oh my, can the pasture bleat.
47 lines, 233 days left.
Solemn sweet pipes of de o'gan
   Heaven's music I've hyeahd play,
But I'll tell you somefin' truly
   Certain ez is Judgment Day:
Angels present at de service
   Ev'ry Sunday fo'd dey wings,
Fo'd dey wings an' listen quiet
   When Malindy sings.
Sthembiso Apr 25
let me be your dear.
and I  shall have no fear.
allow acceleration from God's Gear.

Dear God,
I'm lost and looking for directions.
I'm blind and willing to see.
send your healing miracles,

I'm one of your creation,
living in your created nation.
and living with your created nature.
guide us as our lecture.

With the power of your name,
Please full-fill my life with prosper.
and shall I prospect forever,
and ever, Amen
Helps on seeking strength from God.
alexis Apr 22
pray away my sins with your lips,
fingers intertwined with mine
and whisper gospels into my ear
as we explore our celestial altar's in worship-
in hopes that i may be purified once more
avril 2021
miniyollo Apr 24
She walked down the aisle,
In a beautiful white gown just like her smile,
Her hair in a bun
with a crown just like Eve,
Her lips without a smudge,
Her cheeks rosed pink
And her eyes in tears.
She made her vows with the one in her eyes,
But her throbbing heart
Knew she lied.
Since childhood, the angel thought
This day was the best.
Only to realize,
It wasn't the day,
But the man she would spend her rest.
The princess did not have her prince charming riding the white horse,
But he sat on the wooden bench like a silenda,
Reliving the moments of their star crossed saga.
Who knew there was an obscure string,
That would never let them apart,
The flowers,
The mass,
The rings,
Thy charm,
Was all just a show,
When the heart wasn't ready to vow.....
Morgan Vail Apr 8
The choir’s mewling dips low,
And is raised back up by loving hands.
Bestowed upon them his grace,
Soft nectar for their sides.

Double knots and silk collars,
Frilled white dresses on the girls,
They seem to sink in record time,
Adorned by practiced, innocent chastity.

And when they finally meet their key,
In gold or silver, sent with love,
Bowing their heads they walk back inside,
To obey the every whim of their ordinance.

Like flocks of bird they come flowing in,
To restful sheep along on the pews.
And each alone in their pleasant song,
They dip low with each passing note.
Steve Page Mar 30
A stew of slow cookers
sit simmering
slowly brewing a communal stock,
seaping steam and aromas
which speak a seductive welcome
from doorstep to table
and whisper a warm, rich reassurance
that this is home
My pastor has a collection of slow cookers, ready for a gathering around his kitchen table.
here is my church
here is his steeple
he opens me up
we are the people

praying at the altar of your feet
MJL Mar 16
First Parish
She was 87 years, and a saint
We were 4 years, and angels
Pre-Sunday school
God who?
We were playing
Ostrander was old
But we loved our grey Hen
Cooing Mother
She gave us all saltines
Bless her
We didn't know better
As crackers go
While we waited for Mum and Dad
We were hungry, weekly
Salted salvation gave peace, briefly
White sandy heads hummed and bounced, gently
Nothing could be better...
And then
Vanilla wafer cookies?
Minds blown
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy ***
We believed
We believed
God love vanilla wafer cookies and Mrs. O
True story. Mrs. O was real. Filling parent gaps, ignoring racial and ****** bias... Life offers these people rarely. Amazing to see. Children are not "for" religion, but are for human kindness. Peace.
ShininGale Mar 7
how exhausting can it be?

physically, mentally, and emotionally tired.

how tiring can it go?

Having two of your genitori, and both of them being spregevole.

how weary can it get?

Having some who thinks irrationally and judge you based on their own verdict.

when can our oneself get their rest?
when can our oneself leave the rest?
03070202103005PM (2:22PM)
The words are in italian, a little anxious to write it bluntly by words.

When you thought everything is in good hands and does go well and great, then the storm and thunders comes after.
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