Weekday Communion: a little poem

In God alone my soul finds rest

And oft I meet Him here:

In the quiet, dim narthex,

Breathing the churchly air.

Babies here have been baptized

And joyful couples wed;

Funerals tearful bade goodbyes

And pow’rful scriptures read.

But as I sit now quietly-

No sound but for the organ-

I rather think this cup of tea

Is a weekday communion.

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