To a pastor

Eramosa River Park this afternoon






first ice


The other church people vanished into the cracks of the city, but lately you keep reappearing like a restless spirit: on the studio tour, at the park, and today at the gym I've used for ten years without seeing you.

You call me the name I don't use anymore. Now you want to be friendly. I recall the times you turned away, offer you a cool hello and walk past. Call me unforgiving, angry, whatever you want.

You think I need God, and you're not alone. Even Wayne Besen says, "the gay and lesbian community desperately needs to find God." I've come to believe we generally need belonging. Churches provide hierarchies and pigeonholes. People don't realize it's the structure that pleases them, not the ideas. Take away community, and faith is dead, an empty room.

I imagine we still have a few things in common, like artistic talents and melancholy. We used to share a sense of drama about past mistakes, but I've gotten over that.

And I've found belonging. I belong to my daughters, a chorus, friends and lovers, a community of writers. So you can keep popping up, because you have nothing I want, and I don't care.

~~~~~~~~~~

Another photo is posted in texture.