I sit at the altar crying;
Prompted by some inner urge.
My body rocks unconsciously
As I wail silently and try to pour out my soul.
You speak in tongues,
Your jumbled voices wrapped around me;
Hands placed gently on me,
And you tell me to let go.
I can nearly reach the place where your spirit
But my burning fingers refuse to stretch
All the way to heaven.
I call out softly and whisper to
The God I want to know
But I cannot confess my sins in front of you.
My mind wanders as the minutes drain away,
Touching back over years
That pull aside like curtains;
Revealing pain and sorrow, fatalism
And anger intertwined;
Questions stir inside my overbrimming soul.
Each word comes harder now,
Sticking in my throat;
I cannot scream unselfconsciously like you do.
As I consider the hands around me,
I feel like I'm interrupting
Some kind of critical mass...
(Do you know what a critical mass is?)
The universe held on fragile silver cords;
Hung restlessly and cut off from its source..
Do you see the things I do?
Is my salvation hinged
On one defining moment
That refuses to come?
One human spirit waits for love.