Fiction Friday: Micropoetry from the Book

God was the Creator,
Jesus, the Savior of His creations;
the Holy Ghost was a spirit
that dwelt within me,
haunting my unholy temple.

There were God years & dog years,
& I found myself experiencing what it was like
to seemingly live forever in a day,
a day in forever.

There was a fair amount of diversity in the Church–
even diversity of thought–
for what did not fit with the status quo,
no one had to know.

They folded their arms &
bowed their heads to pray,
rather than press their palms heavenward,
facing upward.

They believed in burning in bosoms,
blessings, & joy manifested.
They said only their Church was true–
just as all the others said about theirs.

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