the blood stream

early on,

in the formative years,

after

so many Sundays of mass,

so many

Saturdays

of catechism,

the idea of heaven

and hell,

sin

and punishment,

confession,

was forever in my

bloodstream.

there was no turning

back.

and now, at this age,

reciting

the prayers

of childhood.

i'm still unsure as to

where i'm going,

lying awake in bed,

praying,

with hands still clasped.