Poem #20: You Had Better

My body is a temple.

If I invite you into my holy home,

You should expect to worship

And not arrive without an offering.

If I usher you into the place that houses my soul,

And ask you to wash your hands,

Or use a coaster,

Or take off your shoes,

Or only sit on the furniture that’s covered in plastic,

Even if that’s just not as good of an experience as sitting on my pink, velvet couch …

You had better agree with the enthusiasm

Of a newly minted acolyte.

You had better bow at my altar,

Looking up at me with nothing but awe and reverence because

I am God here.

There will be no granting of forgiveness

In this confessional.

What you avow in this sanctuary

Had better be your desire to

Join the choir,

And this service is not just on Sundays.

Every word that comes from your lips

Had better be songs of praise.

The only confessions that I’ll accept

Will be ones of love and desire and adoration.

And when I baptize you in my one-of-a-kind font

I had better hear you say,

“Thanks for letting me

Come

Inside.”