Lines Written in St. Patrick's Cathedral

I breezed right in. God knows I'm gay
but He sent no angel to block my way.

I visited the gift shop first,
then sipped holy water to quench my thirst.

It was good to hear no one outside
screaming FAG! or REPENT! or SHAME! or PRIDE!

It is good to just sit and come to terms
with this whole religious can of worms:

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It is men, after all, who complicate
matters of love, and truth and fate.

We wear the mantle of humanity
uneasily, under a cloak of vanity,

providing for Faith the poor environs
of flesh and blood, no match for iron

or Cathedrals themselves, which merely suggest
or beg the presence of God, at best.

We struggle to put God in a place
with doors and windows, and lofty space

so we can summarily admit or exclude,
depending on our vagaries of mood.

Arrogance! Ignorance! All space is His!
Doors do not define where He is!

And doors cast rudely shut in His name
close on hinges of fear and shame.

"Silly children, to guard me so well
from your mistaken vision of Hell

is folly. Why shield my view
from those who look no different than you?

Heed me well, your stone and glass
is a lovely dining room for mass

but nothing more. I take more pride
in mingling on the steps outside."

Dennis Rhodes, 6/28/95