Retired Preacher

Retired preacher,

left high and dry,

without a flock,

without the weekly gig

of sermonising.

Take comfort.

You are released from pretence,

self-censorship,

and walking tightropes

over vertiginous convention

and orthodoxy,

What will you do, retired preacher?

Take a trip, perhaps,

or read some books,

play golf,

attend theatre,

make things,

grow things,

and forget,

(if that is possible),

the call,

once loud and clear,

to save souls,

demand justice,

administer the means of grace,

love

and declare

Good News.

Been there! Done that!

You've done your bit.

It's up to others now.

Think again, retired preacher!

A door has opened,

not closed.

Ahead is time,

perhaps a decade,

give or take,

when you might

breathe fresh air,

unpolluted

by the politics of faith,

when you might

speak your mind.

Now is the time to speak, retired preacher.

No better time, in fact.

The thought police can't get you now.

No need to toe the Party Line.

At long, long, last

you can tell it as it is,

express your certainties and doubts,

declare allegiances

and show a way forward

without looking back.

And if there is no audience;

no docile congregation,

be brave,

and write it down

and cast it like bread

upon the water,

and trust,

and trust again

your words will find a shore.

© Karel Reus