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I was at Your Church Last Week

I was at your Church Last week,
But you didn’t acknowledge I was there.
There was no quiet reverence,
You just didn’t seem to care.

You prayed and asked for my presence,

For my spirit to be there,

You even prayed that angels would come

And fill every vacant chair.

 

But although my presence came

And filled the place within,

It soon had to be withdrawn,

As the place was such a din.

 

The children weren’t kept quiet,

Even adults whispered too.

The young people past notes

As if there was nothing else to do.

 

The preacher preached the word,

But without my presence there,

No one could fully understand

What I’d wanted him to share.

 

You  also sung your songs of praises,

And gave your money too,

But little did you realize

I had withdrawn myself from you.

 

My spirit couldn’t stay

In a place with so much noise,

People who were talking

Or the sound of clanging toys.

 

The reverence I deserved

Had vanished from that place,

And so my spirit had vanished

And left without a trace.

 

Copyright © 2004 Naomi Shea

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