Call to service;
8:00
The pews shall
fill up by 7:30
With cracked knees
and tightly clasped palms.
Their lips utter
supplications and entreaties
To the almighty
who hears;
But may withhold
answers or solutions.
I shall follow on
the heels of she that birthed me
Today she will cry
like always
For father to
return to his good ol ways.
Whimper feverishly
for that unduly deserved promotion
And pray fervently
for all unseen forces to die.
I will sit-still
beside her and bide time
Watch the second
hand pursue the minute hand
Silently drift off
to places unknown
Kneel and stand in
tune with the service.
Like a well oiled
cog I will follow the motions
Of the perfect
machine that is a Sunday service.
When the time
comes share the grace
Wish my neighbour
peace.
On my mother's
heels will I follow-out.
Welcome to my
mundane Sunday.
Ms Oyaghire
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