The preacher’s words are spewing out,
Beckoning at my heart’s ear for a listen
But my roaming ears listen not!
Even though they try, they just can’t.
They have been betrayed by my thoughts,
My wandering thoughts!
Heavenly words are from the pulpit gushing.
Like blood from a fresh wound, they flow.
The messenger of the righteous one speaks.
Of peace, love, forgiveness and giving
And I hear but listen not. My ears slumber on,
Betrayed by my wandering thoughts!
The words, like rain, are pouring down,
The choristers sing in sonorous voices,
Sweet melodies of praise to the most high.
But still, my enslaved ears hear it not,
Still under the binding spell of my thoughts:
My sinful, wandering thoughts of her!
Suddenly I feel a tap from a stern-faced usher,
He snaps me out of my reverie
And then the preacher says, as though to me,
Oh ye with the divided attention, I beseech thee,
Give your maker your undivided attention
Lest you perish like Lot’s wife!
…And my ears open up wide!
meet the poet: Sam De Poet
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.