MY RELIGION

Hymn books in the churches
all sing your praise;
The hills echo when Muezzins recite your name
in every Azaan, Fajr, zohr, Asr, Maghreb, and Isha’s;
The Vermillion seems to glow brighter
when the Brahmins recite your name
as many times as the number of gods that exist;
The piteous fire crackles and laughs coyly,
and my soul dances with a sense of awakening,
white skirts swirling and spinning around
at the remotest mention of you.
You’re my serenity,
setting rows of thousands of prayer wheels into motion.
You’re the heavenly smoke
rising from incense sticks;
I’m an atheist
who finally found her God.

So now,
I’ll sit on the cold floor
chanting your name-
rocking back and forth,
back and forth,
back and forth,
back and forth,
’till the end of my time.

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