Fated priest when he walks in front of a funeral
procession, his gait is often wobbly, says it is stiff
joints; smells of aftershave lotion and brandy.
Lost his faith years ago, in the night, his prayer
echoes in the village church.
Thinks it his fault that god has left him in a vacuum
of disbelief, a penance for not having a total godly
deference. In his dreams, he meets god who speaks
in a language he doesn´t understand; he wakes up
bedroom bleak, and the voice of god has gone.
He says as Jesus once did, why have you forsaken me?
Has a brandy, goes back to a restless sleep.
And there is no peace as sexual needs take over,
actions he will not abide. Morning and he is thankful.
Routines of the day, someone has died, funeral service,
and a woman who wants to confess her banal sins,
he murmurs prayers, waits for god to answer why he
has lost his faith, but there is only silence.
