In stuffy days when I would dress to please
And barter for belonging with a look,
In fussy days when I would don a thought
To hide a naked need and make it prim,
I could have healed myself from expectation,
Remembering how God and I skipped Sunday school
When I was five, and how we both
Played in the mud and soiled our special clothes.
Thought-evoking… memories of skipping Sunday mass, when becoming spiritual rather than religious. Guilty. 
Thanks for enjoying my short poem.
I have a penchant for churches (and bridges)… such architecture, such beauty. They have a tranquility-inducing effect on me 
My mentor, now deceased, once visited a cathedral in New York City. Overwhelmed by the sunlight through the stained glass images, she fainted.
Thats the spirit.
She saw this as a physical phenomenon–sense overcome by a barrage of light and color.