THE PREACHER

The preacher stood in his church
and led the congregation
in hymns and prayers and praise.
When he spoke - he spoke
with passion and conviction -
his flock was all attention.
Old and young, male and female,
they listened quite enraptured,
They laughed, they cried,
were solemn, chastised.
He was a virtuoso;
every emotion he wrung from them,
he got from them on cue.

But was it all a lie?

Standing there,
knowing he could conjure
any response he wanted
with every word uttered,
he knew his power,
and exalted in it.
They were sheep, and they were his.

But was it all a lie?

In his church, the preacher
had a certain sense of certainty;
washing through his mind,
it swept away the doubts -
a rising tide that purified
the debris and detritus which
wicked thoughts from Satan
had dumped there
as they passed.

But was it all a lie?

Alone, at night, in bed, awake,
his wife detached in sleep,
a thought comes like a shadow:
what if it's all a lie?

He's told his congregation
he knows the love of god;
and felt the breath of god
and heard the word of god.

But was it all a lie?

A shudder passes through him.
A flush comes to his cheeks.
He lies awake
and in the dark,
all alone, he weeps.

And yes.
He knows it's all a lie.