Monastery of the Ordinary - Daniel J Harris

The field cats hunt my toes, catching my thoughts.

The shade tree, sun dialled in.

I walk in place, not getting any closer nor further away.

The road pushes gassy cars like intestines.

Adding girth to Mass.

The breeze feeds my lungs, holy gale.

I look in the 'lost and found' to see if I was both.

Honey baring smile at my sins.

Rev. Cure wants to rally the congregation of the love sick.

I sacrilegiously laugh at the divine comedy.

Sailing on the worship.

Brahma is leading the cast, I watch, detached.

My hair ripples and reflexes the light, no need for jewellery.

The cat's tail swishes with the rhythm of a preachers sermon.

The rail road 'crosses' for miles, well out of sight.

The crows sing, the choir.

Mosquitoes come for the donations.

Just another day at church.