Communion

I touched the sofa Where once she sat Reading Emily Dickinson With candles lit. Her soul was still with me Like a sweet dream Even before I sank Into sacred sleep. I don't want to walk through life Mournfully like an ascetic nun Living in a cluster Hidden from the sun. I have a heart of silence Gazing at the sunset Asking for spiritual guidance And not the ability to forget. I think you can find God As easily in a theater as a church, True religion is the comfort and support You find in humanity. I'm going to have to walk To the corner bar Or a public park And find someone To share the communion Of conversation.