As I sit at church <br />My pastors’ words begin to wash past me <br />and in the corner of my mind <br />I begin to wonder – <br />Are you listening <br />Person to my right? <br />You look as if you are planning the rest of your day. <br />Eyes rolled upward <br />lips speaking silently; sorting thoughts. <br />Are you being genuine <br />Girl in the front row? <br />Eyes closed, arms raised – <br />trying to impress the pastor’s son? <br /> <br />I stand, I sing <br />I sit and pray in silence, <br />not crying aloud to our Lord <br />not the loudest in worship. <br />Blending into the congregation <br />I find my haven – <br />my chance to find heaven <br />personal space <br />no distraction from girl in front row. <br /> <br />Are you being genuine? <br />Person to my left <br />thinks about me as I sit <br />more quietly than the rest <br />seemingly self-isolated; <br />‘Isn’t connecting.’ <br /> <br />We all judge <br />what we do not understand. <br /> <br />Person to my left <br />Doesn’t know that I hear God <br />when it’s quiet – <br />But I don’t understand <br />That girl in front row <br />Is being genuine – <br />She expresses her love best aloud. <br />And I also don’t know <br />That person to my right <br />is just like me. <br />But I don’t want to know – <br />I’m too comfortable <br />with my stereotypes <br />When I really should be listening.<br /><br />Danielle Guscott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/was-i-listening/
