COME TO JESUS

Jesus never spent 40 days at a Holiday Inn.
Give me back my dangerous faith.
You remember, the one
where the church A/C is cranked up full
but the preacher can still make you sweat.
Make me hungry once again
for the only food that fills me -
a torn off hunk of bread and a swig of wine.
And when I'm done, I'll grab the altar cloth
and wipe away the dribbles on my grey beard.
Let me sit right next to folks
with stubbed and bloodied toes in raggedy sandals
that release a cloud of dust
as we stamp our feet in time to the choir’s Amens.
I’ll just sit here in the shadows
where I know deep in my heart
that the light still shines on cloudy days.