These Are My People: Dawn Brinn

Together We Pray

Together We Pray

With uncomfortable self-proclaimed oddness
Brought together by a mutual willingness to share
Our hands in accommodating service to others
Building faith in unison like reciting The Lord’s Prayer
She with her beliefs in Jesus and in God
Me with my beliefs, an eclectic mixture of odd
But somehow we see each other with our many flaws
Forgiving each other’s awkwardness, overlooking social faux pas.
Although we are but humans, our spirits intertwine
With whispered prayers for one another, based in the Divine.

These Are My People: Matthew McBee

My son and I line up at the counter
Draining blood from the coffee maker
Refilling our need for bonding
At our morning communion ritual
Not offered by a priest but by Folgers.
We settle at the dining table
Scrolling through my Facebook feed
For videos to spark heat into our spirits
Blaze them up with conversations
That can’t be repeated in public.
I don’t like the days when
It is just me standing in line
Waiting for the “good days”
Where the shame or guilt of bad decisions
Don’t hang like piñatas waiting
Waiting for us to strike the first blow
Raining the inner conflicts into our laps
Tarnished with expectations of perfection
Waiting for us to strike the first blow
Against one another with words
As bitter as the coffee we cream in avoidance
Of the redeeming absolution we could
But don’t usually offer to one another.