I was sprinkled as a Presbyterian baby,
then switched to Catholicism when RFK was shot.
Back in the day I played with pagans,
sat with Buddhists, chanted with Hari Krishna’s
and danced with dervishes.
Later on I prayed with Pentecostals,
messed around with Methodists,
and was baptized by a one-legged Baptist.
You get the idea: I was faithless.
For twenty years now, I’ve been a
musician in a tiny country church, and
here’s what I think of my checkered past.
All those twists and turns in the road that so
shamed and embarrassed me?
They were really, all of them, so help me God,
signposts showing the way to heaven.