It is Sunday

photo by David McCumskay

It is Sunday again and 

Her red doors open, like arms of welcome

Offering a haven, safety, acceptance. 

Church is a she and she is a lover that takes you in

Envelops, even as she frees 

Come home

Leave your sorrow, shed despair as you find a home

This home of red.  

Red, red, in the windows, on her toes. 

Her lips, red, slightly open, she speaks

Words of wisdom, strength and hope

Red on the walls, covering the age, harkening the blood. 

The blood of martyrs, the blood of saints. 

Are women martyrs? 

Martyrs that bleed in penance

Red in the arches, in the curves, yielding spaces

Red that flows and flows and flows 

As a single river down the center aisle

Into hearts or into minds

Or so they say 

It is Sunday again and

seems like it’s going to be a red summer

Published by cathlinet

Teacher activist, social justice advocate, educational leader.

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