this is a poem written in recognition of the level of conflict and potential for split within the communion….

By Sharon Moon

Based on: “Goodbye, New York” by Deborah Garrison, from The Second Child. © Random House.

Goodbye, Anglican Home

(a song from the wrong side of the Atlantic)

you were home of Shakespeare and Chaucer
the rubrics well learned, hymns sung by a cantor

you were the ancient graves near the Thames
the lofty Cathedral where little boys sang

Tallis, Tavener, Durufl, Purcell
nearby Whitehall, Trafalgar, and Ludgate Hill

messages from the ABC I sometimes read
at nights before I went to bed

the Sunday services, those at Christmas Eve
the processions with princes and Queens in their grief

you were the tiny brass crucifix
and the smell of incense, in thurible mixed

you were the balcony with pipes of all sizes
liturgy spoken in well cadenced phrases

post-wedding pictures, baptismal cries
fragrant altar flowers, and smiling eyes

you were the coffee, the tea, and the cakes
the wooden seats that made young hips ache

an awkward hug at the passing of the peace
the momentary innocence of confessional release

a man for all seasons standing in his time
preparations, a prayer book, both bread and wine

always the questions, not demanding an answer
the poetry of psalms, the liturgical dancer

the raising of prayers for those hurt, lost and alone
for a friend in need, or on their way home

the candles extinguished as the service ends
a moment of silent kneeling and matters to mend

my place of second birth, my spiritual door
have you become the dream we have lived before?