Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Lent 3, Yr B)

(John 2: 13-22)

In a building that is not a building
but the dusty halls of my spirit,
in a heart that is not just a heart
but an intended-to-be-holy temple,

there are sheep and there are cattle
that are not sheep and cattle
but the worries and concerns
and the sorrows of life,

and there are dulled coins and doves
that are not coins and doves
but the tarnished hopes and dreams
of an aging mind,

and they clutter and crowd the courtyard,
cloud the air with their smells and voices,
their noises of stress and hunger:
overpowering the words of prayer.

Saviour, come into the spaces
of this yearning-to-be-holy temple,
come and cleanse this heart of distractions,
help me clear the clutter, the noises,

make it more of a place of listening
open to the mystery of your presence,
a space of restfulness, a quiet center
for lifting unfettered prayer.


For my poem about the Ten Commandments (this week’s reading from Exodus 20) please follow this link.