Sunday, February 10, 2013

Sunday Morning

White frost on dock, blue sky, sunshine,
Thank you Jesus,
Dog laughs running.
I follow slowly.

There is promise in this day:
A new canvas for life's painting,
A tabula rosa with only faint marks of yesteryear.
I can be a new man;
I can start a new life.
I can continue the best of the old.

It's my day, our day, a new day,
This Sunday.
I'm going to church.
I love the place of praise and thanksgiving.
There is safety in worship and focus.
If I leave now I might just make the sermon.

Gilbert, the cockapoo is loved in this church.
We are suspect of churches that don't welcome dogs
What kind of Ark would hold just people.
In my heaven I'm there with the cats and dogs
And fish and birds and even grandad's horses.
I just know that the animals I ate will be forgiving in heaven.
So I must be forgiving here on earth to gain my place there,
Where cannibals redeemed eat sacramental bread,
Forgiving, forgiven.

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