Bride of Christ
Nobody lives forever. Miss Hooker
said so and she’s my Sunday School teacher
so there it is, I guess–the truth, the whole
truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me
God. But, she says, I have one chance to live
forever even though I’ll be dead–and
have to die first, of course, to be dead–and
that’s to believe that Jesus is the Son
of God and to pray in His name to be
forgiven for my sins so I don’t go
to Hell. Some of my friends in regular
school say we’ll go to Heaven anyway
because that’s why Jesus died, died for our
sins. We get in automatically
that way but our church says nuts so to be
safe I try not to sin, at least not much,
and when I do I ask God to forgive
me even though I know while I’m sinning
that I’ll be praying that He’ll let me off
the hook but somehow that doesn’t seem fair
–a guy could do all the evil he wants
and get away with it so I’ve got to
try harder. Miss Hooker says, Be ye therefore
perfect, or that’s something Jesus said,
but nobody is, perfect that is, but
I have to try anyway, anything
to avoid going to Hell and burning
forever and not just forever but
eternally, a Hell of a long time.
Oops–the way I used that word is a sin
so I’d better pray right now that Jesus
will forgive me because if He does then
God has to–they’re in this thing together
–and just in case I die a few words from now
because Miss Hooker says that if I die
in sin that there’s no getting around it,
I’ll go to Hell just as sure as I’m born.
Life might be easier if I’d never
been born at all–I told Miss Hooker
that after Sunday School this morning and
she told me that I’d better take it back
and pretty damn quick because I might die
with that sin on my lips, or at least just
out of my mouth, and not be forgiven.
She was right earnest and I didn’t mean
to scare her so we got down on our knees
and I saw some of her legs I’ve never
seen before and I wonder if that’s sin.
And then I went home. It was good for her
to have me that near and to pray for me.
I might still go to Hell but it will be
close since I think I did her charity
so that might take the sting out of my sin.
On Sunday afternoon I take a nap
before I do my homework for Monday.
I dreamt Miss Hooker and I were the same
age and married but very, very old
and that she died in her rocking chair next
to mine on our front porch while I thought she
was asleep–I’d been thanking her again
for marrying me so long ago but
she never replied. All she did was smile.
I got up to kiss her but her lips were
cold and she didn’t kiss back. I thought she
was teasing me but she was only dead.
And then I woke up. At least I think so.