Converting the Heathens
When you’re middle aged,
Religion may occur to you on Fridays
as the ringers swing up ropewards like failed suicides.
You may find yourself prostrate or
falling to your knees in the gardening section,
hallelujah meccabingo, amen to mammon in the frozen aisle.
Child, You are the child of unbelievers:
generation after hopeless generation..
You will need to be taught to pray,
the steeple of the fingers blocking light
the hard bare chairs, the aching knees.
You said you weren’t sure how –
I said I hoped you’d never need to learn;
this is the first time kid, let’s not make it a habit of it.
Watch me worship– I’ll make one match light five candles
then go out into the graveyard, good with sunlight.
Sarah Davies is from Merseyside and has been writing, on and off for years. She is a fulltime lecturer and Mum and has been published in several magazines