FORMATION

I believe in God, the Father, the

congregation rises in unison, divided in piety.

Voices so halting and so familiar, echoing the

Belief, slick as hand-polished pews, graced by the touch

of hundreds of palms across the centuries,

Still firmly grasping onto the Creator of

All things, seen and unseen,

Eyes wandering across the aisle,

Carpet. Wood. The creaking of souls,

The windows shifting their panes on the floor,

I believe in Jesus Christ shining in the stained glass

Marian-mother cerulean, red as passion-blood,

Born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under

The changing times—will this election be the end of us?

And all the groceries I forgot to buy, the car needs oil,

I think, and when is rent due this month?

Will money last until the third day he rose again,

He is seated at the right side of the church,

Shush-a-bye, the baby behind him, tiny, fingers

curling, grasping at the motes in the rays of golden

Holy Spirit. The holy catholic Church

ladies staring across the aisles, shoulders aching,

For grandchildren when she cries, when its time for

The brass bells to clang out

Trinity, trinity, trinity—lingering in the shells of our ears.

Calling us to the communion of saints.

The forgiveness of sins sought on kneelers,

threadbare wine velvet—

Downcast eyes, sins still shoulder-heavy, shame

Hot. The priest’s cross over the congregation, cool like

Resurrection waters. “Remember your baptism.”

So much lighter, the hymn that leads out the cross,

Into the world. The deacon calls out the dismissal

“Go forth into the life everlasting.”

Amen.