-- THE CONFESSIONAL --
John Herlihy
Once a week, at the tail end of a fine Saturday,
I took myself to a church confessional for my sins to pay.
All of my boyhood innocence had fallen by the wayside;
Now I had to confess my sins; in the blessed Lord confide.
An ominous presence sat in silhouette behind the grill;
Hunched over with the sins of the world, I remember still.
I took a deep breath as I entered the enclosure in wonder;
The quiet church, smelling of incense, had the feel of thunder.
Once inside the cubicle, I felt as if within hallowed ground,
As the reflected yellow light fell through the grill all around.
At first, an ominous silence with a heavy curtain still drawn;
I could have been deep within a forest, every bit the timid fawn.
I said to a shadow in the grill: Bless me father for I have sinned,
With my voice stuck there in my throat, I simply grinned.
The mantra: It has been only one week since my last confession;
The blessing: my slate will be wiped clean as a tidy concession.
The guilt I carried with me will no longer be around my neck;
My little soul soon blessed for the coming week, what the heck.
With all the sorrow I could muster, my heart went pit-a-patter.
How could I be such a naughty kid, didn’t the good life matter?
With a blush and a sense of guilt, I mumbled, these are my sins,
Dancing their little lives away as though upon the heads of pins.
At the time I committed them, they didn’t seem to be so wrong;
Now I had to pay the heavy price and sing humbly my little song.
I threw spitballs in school and stole my brother’s baseball glove;
I dipped Bernice’s pigtails into the inkwell, but I swear out of love.
I stuffed the liver I hated behind the kitchen radio (it soon broke);
While roaming in the marshes, I squeezed a frog to make him croak.
I hid my penny candy from my friends, to hoard my stash like a miser;
I copied my friend’s math homework, thinking myself all the wiser.
The aging priest coughed behind the grill and whispered lightly;
I listened carefully, knowing I would soon be feeling sprightly.
With a voice most gentle and full of love, he uttered my penance,
Five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys to perform in recompense.
Yes father, I replied in earnest, as I prepared to take my leave,
Feeing clean again until next week, to return for another reprieve.
With my promise as closure, yet knowing that I was telling a lie,
I vowed never again to commit these atrocities with a heavy sigh.
We had been taught in the catechism that repentance was the key;
Not only to admit the wrong, but promise never again as my plea.
With aching knees, I left the confessional, forgiven and feeling free,
Heart lightened, soul brightened, the world’s burden lifted from me.
- - - - - -
(c) John Herlihy 27 March 2019
m
Rebecca
As penance for all your atrocities, I would have insisted that you do a stand-up comedy routine in front of an audience of hardened criminals while insisting they stop laughing at each of your sins. ==smiles==