by Mike Hall

Once again Sunday had rolled around,
A day of reverence to be consecrated,
A day in which worship could abound,
A day for righteousness to be found,
A day on which my obligation could be sated.

I reached up high on a shelf
And retrieved the ornamental box on top.
Locked inside was a more devout self,
Worn this day to feel better about myself,
Ready to be used, much like a prop.

When this day of sabbath worship was done,
This pious version would be locked safely away
So its wear and tear would be slight to none.
Suiting my wish to fit in, to be the same as anyone,
I dressed in my normal self and put it on display.

My need to be accepted during my daily grind, 
To not stand out or be judged as strange,
Means I must blend in (no reason to be maligned).
There is no need for my precepts to be realigned
By inviting a life full of radical change.

I place the box back on the high shelf
Where I have conveniently placed God inside,
Letting Him rest while I put on my other self.
I am safe from ridicule while He is on the shelf,
Having locked God away and put Him aside.

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Mike Hall is in his 46th year of teaching and has authored two collections of poetry, Autumn’s Back Porch and Thinking Out Loud. More than thirty of his poems have been published in various magazines, including Pure in Heart Stories, Sparks of Calliope, Discretionary Love, Solid Food Press, and Spirit Fire Review. He and his wife, Cynthia, live in the Dallas, Texas area.