I love going to church. Not because I’m particularly faithful. The truth is I’m highly skeptical about religion. I love going because it puts me into a creativity zone I rarely find elsewhere. I have come up with many scenes and story ideas while listening to sermons and church music. It’s not the only reason I go, but it’s the only reason relevant to this blog.

Our church plays loud music. The program runs like this, forty minutes of loud music, ten minutes of coffee and chat, and forty minutes of preaching/teaching. For me it’s nearly two hours of sinking into storyland.

Yesterday I decided to open my notebook and actively write while the band played. I wrote a couple of pages worth, mostly crap, but I had fun. Maybe it is sacrilegious, disrespectful, and wrong. I don’t think so. If God isn’t in favor of human creativity, then he’s no God of mine.

Here are a couple of poems I wrote. Don’t laugh too hard.

The Drummer

The cymbal floats
waiting for the personal touch
that tap that will make it sing
and nod in agreement with the human spirit
and its need for belonging

The Violist

You hold your instrument like a plucked hen
and your bow like a butcher’s knife
and when you raise them and play
the room full of chickens flap their wings in praise
for they can easily see God
but they refuse to see death

Yes, it’s an eclectic band 😉