Friday, September 2, 2022

Sundays Recollected

It is Sunday and the stillness and near

silence stir memories of a lifetime 

of preparing for worship.  Being quiet

was a way of life, especially on Sunday 

mornings as Dad tried getting closer 

to God and the right words for the sermon

and Mom got my sister and I ready 

softly speaking to see how close we were

to going to the church and Dad entering 

a little later.  There was a reverence surpassing

religion; I did not know it then, I know it now.

And how deep the respect for silence

and stillness, the preparation of being

in the presence of the unseen that could be done

when buttoning a shirt, tightening a belt,

tying shoes, running my hand across my crewcut.

I have never lost that feeling 

anywhere worship is being prepared for.

I look outside, bow in my heart, refuse the urge

to speak, refuse the blasphemy of words

when none are needed.


-Byron Hoot

hootnhowlpoetry.com 

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