Four poems, shucking the burden of proof.
DISORGANISED RELIGION
I have a recurring dream,
That the nightmare is over.
A new strain roams the earth.
They worship not knowing,
And have faith in finding out.
A roaring ocean, a sparkling highball,
A book half-read and a
concurring friend
Calling them softly home,
Is really, for them,
Heaven enough. CLIFFHANGER Religious, spiritual, theist, atheist or agnostic,
do we really want to know what’s true?
The universe: “What comes around goes around.
What’s pitched in the ditch comes back in the cup.”
Nature is passive-aggressive:
“I love you, don’t mess with me. I’ll break your face”.
Moon tugs at sea. Systole, diastole.
Mass Weds Gravity. COVID-19 Karma.
Yin. Yang. A Fine Balance.
ThePlantsTheAnimalsTheRocksTheStonesTheAirTheWater.
Will we keep pulling them apart? Will we come together,
a joyous, orgasmic cloud of stardust again?
A Big Bang?
A Small Whimper?
How does it all end?
FAITH
In a small unassuming building's
Small unassuming garden
Dwells the divine:
Sunshine from our one and only star,
A patch of green underfoot.
An oxygen-spewing Badam tree
And its fellow trees, connected,
Communicating underground,
Sharing their resources.
A shiny blue Carpenter bee,
A Red-vented bulbul,
Frangipani blossoms
And Hibiscus in full bloom.
All looking after things,
Tending to what we really need
For our collective survival.
All of nature,
waiting for this to pass,
Waiting to give us another chance.
CONFESSION Forgive me, father,
I am lactose intolerant.
Intolerant also of
misogynists, racists,
ageists, and usurers.
Of the dearth of imagination,
and the fear of dogs;
Of reverence for the power above,
but none for the powers below
that IRL put their asses on the line
So Thy Will Be Done
On Earth, as it is in Heaven
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