There was
Stained glass windows;
Decorated mirrors;
Colorful lights;
Tobacco scented incense;
Various holy waters;
Icons of sport saints;
And Christmas decorations.  

A priestess of sorts
At the altar-like bar
Was hearing confessions.
Saint Hank of Williams,
Was preaching on the jukebox;
About the hardships of life
And how he saw the light.

A devout Christian was preaching
About the sins of abortion.
Another was giving a sermon
On loose women he has known.

I sat down at the altar
With the other "twisted" saints.
The priestess administered my sacrament.
- Beer and Chips -
The body and blood of Christ,
Or something like that.

I was getting spiritually high
On the holy sacrament,
When the door gently opened,
And a cold, dirty, bedraggled,
Old man appeared.

"JESUS CHRIST"
Someone in the congregation shouted.
Another Christian fearing
We were unworthy in His presence
Shouted, "Get Him out of here".
The door quickly shut and Jesus
Was gone in a flash.

The Congregation was abuzz.
"Never before in my entire life . . . ."
"He was certainly a sight". . . .
"What did he want with us poor people?"

The encounter touched me deeply;
I was on a spiritual high;
I left the church feeling woozy;
The experience was so powerful,
I could hardly walk.

So Jesus is real.
He does come in mysterious ways.
And He does visit the poor,
And He touches us all.
Oh what a Merry Christmas!