The Church of Greek Yogurt

~ qbit 
I believe in the church of 0% Plain Greek Yogurt – 
hymns of milk solids, blueberry rosaries, the

redemptive crunch of granola. It's like believing 
in Jesus with no added sugar or fat. But not at 

all like believing in gravity and hammers, which I 
have more than once dropped on my foot. And

most certainly not like when I placed an hourglass 
in the lemon squeezer when I was pressed for 

time, with broken glass everywhere and I got a 
mouthful of sand. Maybe belief is slippery, like 

a soapy bar of truth that I can't catch in the tub, 
or believing I can play Rock, Paper, Scissors with 

God, but God won't ever throw Rock when I am 
scissors, and we know how that turned out.

For Shay’s Word Garden

9 thoughts on “The Church of Greek Yogurt”

  3. What a fantastic creed and conundrum you amuse us with, until the ending catches us ruminating on the unfathomable, with the “added sugar or fat” and the grace of the “Rock” in the game of words, of life.

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  4. I was chuckling as I read this, albeit ruefully, and I may have let out a bit of a guffaw at the hourglass pressed for time..but then reading more seriously, I can see that the mood of this poem is light, “.. like believing/in Jesus with no added sugar or fat…” but it points out so many of life’s vanities and miscues, that in the end the reader is left with a smile but totally sober again, because the soapy nature of belief seems designed to be ungraspable. At least for me. Excellent poem, qbit.

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