PASSION FAITH AND ZEAL

We lived next door to 2 large Catholic families

I mention they were Catholic,

Because in both cases that seemed important to who they were.

Faith was present, talked about and practiced in their homes,

As a trusted to tool to guide and order their world,

Or as an oppressive weapon, enforcing behavior needed for reassurance.

One lot was so happy,

You could not help but smile when you were with them.

If you did not know yet how to laugh and joke with unrestrained joy,

They would teach you.

Love was simple if you let it happen.

The other lot was so unhappy you could hear them,

Summer nights, windows open, tight voices, crying, screaming, misery,

That could go on for hours.

Love was something earned thru suffering.

And there we were with our hint of Episcopal and Intellectual superiority.

The neighbors,

Looking and wondering what it was we were missing,

Or avoiding,

With our one foot in and one foot out approach to everything.

Kissing on the front porch in plain sight of everyone,

Suggesting we could all just do,

Whatever,

And everything would turn out fine.

Live and let live,

Love and let love.

As if that were sufficient breakwater

Against a tidal wave of,

Passion, faith and zeal.