Cathedral

winding my way
through spirals of gray

to embrace a message
that led others to wage wars

militarist language
opens just a crack

in the liturgy

my knees hurt constantly
kneeling on uncomfortable benches

is this part of the penitence?
To be as uncomfortable as possible
while prostrate before the Lord?

what is my purpose in all this
I am clumsy and easily confused
in this labyrinthine space

I ask for a blessing in the end
The rector has no oil
but says a prayer on my behalf
for my health

once a blonde-haired Australian woman
anointed my head with oil
in the sign of the cross

pulling from a small, circular box
that looked a bit like cylindrical chap stick

it was sticky and covered my forehead
I did not wash it for a week.

I have knelt to accept's Christ's sacrifice again
This I did early in life many times,
but without real wine and real bread.

Wafter and grape juice
and songs sung in Sunday School on record players
of biblical heroes

even the Old Testament.

I will return again tomorrow
to wind my way through another
journey through the book of common prayer

more mysteries
more copying of others who
have the system down much better than me