In a ritual from renaissance times
With organ bellows and heavenly rhymes
Service programs and hynmals hand-held out before us
We sing, after ascension, of the returning Christ
Who will descend as He ascended,
Sins and failings amended
All upon a warm Spring morning Sunday
Scene: a leafless sapling tree
Enter: we High School Theater geeks,
Proceeding to rip and read ‘Waiting for Godot’ on stage
With scripts and asides hand-held out before us, where
Promised and sworn, tedium borne, sundowm to come,
(Without quoting sans expressed written permission)
‘We are waiting for (G-Word) … to come,’
And too, leaving church after communion
I found, on the sidewalk, a milennial reunion
Each tapping zealously with woodpecker fingers
Upon Iphones and tablets, hand-held out before them,
“Are you waiting for a bus?” I asked the group,
“No, pokemon,” said one,
“We’ve been promised here ‘new pokemon’ will come”
No comments:
Post a Comment