Take me not to a brook for bath celestial
Where the mind jitters furiously about
Sudden ministerial acts unforeseen
That in cassock and collar might seize my breast
And untie holy sash toward canal assault.

Take me not to this eerie divination chamber
Where works of art violate principles of beautiful arts
That they refuse to be appealingly fantastic
But loom appallingly terrific to the young and the old
Where ache is expunged and ague installed in its stead.

Take me not to the roof-tops
Where matriarchs sit on broom sticks
And cause night winds to move currents on Day Sea
Where house rats dare not peer out during parliamentary session

Take me, I beseech you…
To the pulpit
Where on my knees I shall be
Till the hand of trinity is lain on me
Take me…to the communion table
Where the Precious Blood that makes me whole awaits
In the cups of saints
That wherefore I dine I shall starve no more
Wherefore I wine I shall thirst no more
That I shall die without dying
And die no more.

‘Deji W. Adesoye