It is the fashion of some,
When discoursing
On matters of religion,
To wax poetic
And pompous
And profuse,
As if the facts of the matter
Were insufficient
And needed help.
And I wonder
If the importance of truth
To them
Is not so much
In truth itself
As in the vainglory
Of their own presentation of it—
As if God himself
Had set the stage
So long ago
By creating the fact
For the very reason
That they might be
The one
To tell about it now.
And here I sit,
Regretting that
I used to be
Somewhat like that
Myself,
And wondering
To what extent
I still am.
