My visit to the Anglican Church in Cuernavaca:
I go to find comfort
You welcome me
We're all the same
Because of our skin
Until I hear your story
and it is not your neighbor's
You write
You laugh
At our denominational differences
You sing
We all sing
You are escaping
from pain
to more isolation
and find freedom?
You have come and gone
a minority
I open my mouth to say the Creed
And hear new words
Unfamiliar praises
in a deceivingly similar setting
What language do you really speak?
Because though I hear you
I do not understand
You are what I am looking for.
No comments:
Post a Comment