Church, LLC

I have this recurring impulse,
Like an involuntary reaction,
Fervently whispering, “this is false,”
With mounting distraction,

“It isn’t this; it’s something other.”

I’ve ignored it- I’ve reprimanded
I’ve called it sin.
I’ve tried to understand it
Through the lens

Of how I must be wrong.

But the whisper abounds
Deafening as I’ve grown
Until the sounds
Of all I’ve known

Give way to what I might yet know.

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