Confession

Confession

On a walking pilgrimage, we washed our clothes by hand
I hurried through the process, but I came to understand
I was cleaning all my clothes so that they didn’t smell,
But I should have cleaned for purity as well.

I wanted to get out the dirt and the grime
Scrubbing away as quickly as I could,
But there was a woman there who would take her time
To clean her clothes the way I knew I should.

Undoubtedly I needed to get the stains out.
That wasn’t questioned in my mind,
The question came when I began to doubt
The cleanliness of clean parts I would find.

The woman cleaned her clothes like I should clean my soul
Letting purity and cleanliness replace
An apathetic nature that spins out of control
choosing “good enough,” instead of gifted grace.

http://www.bonjourpoetry.com

I based this poem on a story Fr. Dave Pivonka told during an episode of Franciscan University Presents.  He writes more on his pilgrimage experience in his book, Hiking the Camino.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s