Believe It Or Not

I am sitting in a cathedral

surrounded by the faithful,

the christened, the regular

church goers. We are here

to commend the soul of

our friend to the embrace

of the god for whom she

lived her life.

I am the outsider here,

familiar with the covenant

held forth, but no longer

believing its promise.

And yet, my face is pressed against

the glass, so close to the sweet cakes

of everlasting life. They smell like

incense and I can almost, almost

taste their honey.

I long for the satisfaction of

having my eternity mapped

out, but in truth will have to

settle for the free-fall of mystery

without the parachute of faith.