Words of The Lamb magazine

by Vivianne Clark

I gnaw at the hundred-year-old wood
making up the pews of our two-hundred-year-old church
Too young to know any better, until my father bats me away

Listen. Pay attention.
Your mother is in the pulpit.
(she stayed up all night to write)

We kneel for the Nicene Creed
and proclaim our ancient faith,
a public demonstration of agreement, peace

Congregants are enveloped in light filtered by stained glass
The choir harmonizes; their books say
Lift Every Voice And Sing!

I wonder if the angels say the same.