Composites from Snap Shots

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On Sunday, we attend an old Baptist church...


Everyone says goodmorning as if they are glad

   To see me again, as if I've always been there.

Each step is taken with quiet joy into the pews.

    Every one in their Sunday best, with a well-

Worn Bible tucked tenderly to the chest
I feel refreshed, drinking deeply from a well of cool, clear tradition...

"This is what church is supposed to look like!"

I immediately want to go back.

This was Brandy's church...
We sit there, like we've always sat there.

I wish we could always sit there.

I say I want to sit there.

I could go sit there...


It's not realistic to sit there.

I've received a message.

All my thoughts are the same,

But I've been brought down seventeen notches.

Effectively silenced.

Reminded that not all questions have been answered so

I can't stop asking. James is on repeat.

I had a dream where my dad held two large stones together,

Black on top of white. They fit together perfectly.

They reminded me of the inquiring stones from the

Old testament.



He said that I was running out of time...

I got angry because I could see our old house

Behind him and I felt like this time limit

Was arbitrary.

But in my waking hours, I know deep down,
it isn't.

No one can tell me what to do.

No one can show me the will of God.

No one can give me answers that don't sound

Utterly hinky.

This thing I have with You, it goes two ways...
And I am quickly running out of time...

There's a white dog that stares me in the eyes every time I come down the street to my house.

I feel like he tells me to be careful and slow down on the sharp turns.

So let's talk...

What's going on?

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