We saw a man dressed like Jesus
who walked from town to town.

He was a shoulder to a cross.

Andrew leaned into me and said,
"Hmm, bet Jesus didn't have 
a wheel on his." 

I imagined the scars on his hands,
callouses in his palms 
from opening too many twist-off
bottles of Coors Light (no doubt).

And I imagined his words:

"Its just mount'n spring water 
but if ya have enough it becomes holy.
There's power in believin'."

No point in arguing 
with imagined words.
I reached into the cooler,
grabbed a bottle and proceeded
to get high on religion. 

It was time to relax, 
let my spiritual side have a say--

It leaned into me and said, 
"There's power in believin'."


©2001 Revised Peggy Putnam Owen