“Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief” Mark 9:24
We are still so many unbelievers
Your preachings barely raise an eyebrow now
nice thought nice deeds nice man
neatly portioned faith for weak digestions
hard to swallow surely but was it all just hearsay
sexed up for impact - that bio documented by disciples
your fire and brimstone tone I heed the most
but this went hell for leather with the devil
now milky priests mew policies and good intentions
money changers morphed as entry fee collectors
upkeep for the architectural glory of cathedral
our offertories scattered with reluctant coinage
dropped from sweaty palms on Sundays
even after the bread and wine
the famished are of course still with us
easy to mock as gullible those who swallow miracles
hungering for something extra-ordinary
here we stand agape at the first station of the cross
whilst the tomb is empty and the dove has flown
A little piece of Easter for the Poetry pantry
PoetryPix 