A Longing For Church
Things are not as they seem. I sit on this very spot. In this very city. In this exact
place in the world. But only at this exact moment. I travel contstantly through space and
that place of time. Things are not as they seem. I watch things in a vegatative state and
I can't control my brain. I see with all three eyes. Are each pair seeing true things, or
are things not as they seem. I humble my self before the altar, before the Supreme Being,
out of Eternity and in Time, and of course vice versa. I see before me a humble peice of
wheat bread. But things are not as they seem.
Copyright © George Gabriel | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment