A Good Boy

i was baptised a child few weeks old at an old church ten minutes from home on foot which grandma did we did not have a car just driven by a faith in christ the cross rises so high up it (the church) still stands today given a facelight turning from a single storey rectangular humble structure to a round tall cathedral only strong young men and women could reach; alas those thirty forty steps that have prevented mom from going to church too steep for old bones i was told Christ is the Son of God all 12 years of education at an irish run missionary school where chapel prayers, confessions and important catholic days filled the time table too now swept by tide of time a river where streams and tributaries flow into all the knowledge of the world they threw me a koran they threw me buddha's eight fold paths they threw me bhagavad gita all those crysal clear catholic teachings challenged my world helter kelter torn between heaven and hell to be a good boy to remain truthful yet longing for the truth in this blurred world that shouts about miracles, god from all angles