Directions

In the little Tennessee town
where William Jennings Bryan waged
his last battle, we assembled
for mandatory chapel.

From the stage, the speaker directed
us to stir our college selves
and move our bodies to reflect
the state of our hearts.

Shift right if
you just don't care about Christ.
Shift left if
He's most important.
Pick the center section if
you can't claim either.

My friends and I,
already in the center,
agreed with quick glances
to move a seat or two
but basically stay the same.
The comfort of our shared
mediocrity eased my embarrassment,
but I watched, half-envious,
as an acquaintance padded,
certain but unassuming,
to the far left.

I had no doubt of her honesty--
nor that of the single, lone soul
in the abandoned right section,
a girl I knew from shared friends
who were good at gathering in
from the edges the odd ones like her
and like me.

I wonder now,
if my heart, then, had been on the left,
would my body have been on the right
so she would not sit alone?