Don't

Don't thrust a book at me,

(not even the ”Good Book”),

with intent to ensnare me.

Don't read a tract to me,

as if two thousand year-old words

can magically save my soul.

Don't pray at me with lowered gaze

and gracious platitudes and weasel words

reeking with sincerity and good intent.

Don't preach at me from your sacred soap box

as if you've leave through call or learning

to show to me the Mind of God.

Don't forgive me

as if my sins are known to you

and you can speak for God.

Don't try to make a difference

if you won't do the heavy work

and get some dirt beneath your nails.

Do hold my hand

and walk with me.

I do get lost, confused.

As buddies, mates,

we have a better chance.

And know me,

know me please;

my weakness and my strength

and passions,

and hopes and loneliness.

Let's talk and talk

and talk some more

and read and pray.

And if your faith is worth

more than a pinch of salt,

walk the extra mile with me.

You can wear my shirt,

and we will fathom

what this gig is all about.

© Karel Reus