Reading Evening Prayer in an Empty Church

It’s good to be here, Lord,
even if you’re not, even if all
that’s behind the crucifix
is the eastern wall.

Chrysostom says it takes two.
I’m never sure that angel on the back bench
knows anything, sitting there with his big square
wings folded, reading the editorials.

I’ve seen his kind streak across the sky
now and again, bound for races or baseball,
thrown a few high thoughts their way,
but I don’t really want their life.

Not that here is an easy place.
My clothes are too tight. I worry. Sometimes
I get depressed. But what if I stopped
in this place just to get my messages?

This here, this room into which I speak
is quite enough height for me, and maybe
someday we’ll all of us get the message. Home,
this is home, with its not very permanent light.

Here or nowhere, me or nobody—

it’s well.

[Published in Windhover, January 2001]