Poetry

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Church V

An individual who is spiritually seeking appears at the back of the church.
Searing internal pain.
No relief,
No hope given,
No hope found,
But he is ever looking.
Turned to addiction as the "Savior of his pain."
Enemy driven,
Spiritual seeker,
The emotional landscape of his life, storm driven.
No where to go.
Desperate to find peace in his heart, soul, & mind.
Heart hungry without knowing what he is looking for.
Needy of loving, authentic,non-game playing relationships.

At night, when his pain is greatest,
From his apartment, his eye is drawn
To a magnificent cathedral like church
Whose cross could always be seen at night,
Emblazoned by the beauty of its light.
Its church steeple would often fill the night air
With bells of hope, beauty and delight.
The gloom of his nights made the church a breath taking sight.

The beauty of the chruch drew him there.
He was drawn to beauty.
No fancy car.
No earthly family.
No inheritance.
No famous name.

Only a pain he could not bear.
Through his pain, Christ pursued him.
Without knowing it, Christ was wooing him.

When the church doors opened,
He was there.
He listened to the beauty of the music.
He listened to the artistry of well chosen words.
He listened to a ministerial voice so well trained
That his very tone exhibited a magical cadence that was beyond compare.
He listened to masterful preaching where Christ was not preached.
He sat surrounded by
Marble floors,
Works of art,
Embellishments of architecture that were beyond belief.
Aesthetics permeated this lit church of the night.

He saw the beauty of excellence and art in the church everywhere.

He entered the temple of man,
But could not find Christ or the Cross of love and light anywhere.

He worshipped beauty there.

He left in despair.

Which church am I?

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