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I was at Your Church Last Week

I was at your Church Last week,
But you didn’t acknowledge I was there.
There was no quiet reverence,
You just didn’t seem to care.

You prayed and asked for my presence,
For my spirit to be there,
You even prayed that angels would come
And fill every vacant chair.  

But although my presence came
And filled the place within,
It soon had to be withdrawn,
As the place was such a din.  

The children weren’t kept quiet,
Even adults whispered too.
The young people past notes
As if there was nothing else to do.  

The preacher preached the word,
But without my presence there,
No one could fully understand
What I’d wanted him to share.  

You also sung your songs of praises,
And gave your money too,
But little did you realize
I had withdrawn myself from you.  

My spirit couldn’t stay
In a place with so much noise,
People who were talking
Or the sound of clanging toys.  

The reverence I deserved
Had vanished from that place,
And so my spirit had vanished
And left without a trace.  

Copyright © 2004 Naomi Shea