In the quiet of the night

I sat alert in meditation

Herd the world heave in pain

As it succumbs to the cult of stress

As it worships the fetish of materialism

As it’s consumed by the fire of the ego.

When I consulted the native oracle

It asked me to see the moon smile

It asked me to hear the cricket sing

It asked me to hear an owl shriek

it asked me to hear a cock crow

Free of charge.

With an eagle’s perspective

Now I embrace simplicity

Now I preach reciprocal solidarity

As my religion

That’s not defined in infallible decrees

That’s not manifested in ritual dogmas

That’s not celebrated in cultural credos

That’s not measured by profit outcomes.

In my religion

We feel the heart

We let the spirit guide

We stay in sync with the soul

We don’t dominate nature

We dance to nature’s rhythms

We have romance with the moon

We are ambivalent with the sun

We listen to the voices of mother earth

We don’t ignore the weight of history

We scale up the groans of the working poor

We offer solace to children deprived

We burn to ashes patriarchy and racism.

In my religion

We don’t worship

A single organized creed,

But we adore the action

Of those who turn pain

Through simple kindness

And transformative love

Into a new brand of faith

That infuses hope

Into the lives

Of the least

Among us.

In my religion

The heart and the mind

Work in unity of purpose

To spice practical reality

With simple empathy

To question profits games

To demystify rote conformity

To reject purity of all kinds.

Because my religion

Is formed of bonds

It’s down-to-earth:

It wields the hammer of love

To break the back of hate,

It offers shields

To protect the rejected

From the hurricanes of life,

It subdues stomach devils

By divining rains

To grow food crops

To douse off hunger,

It sheds tears

To wash in salt

The festering wounds

Of the oppressed,

It holds a torch

To scare demons

Haunting the weak,

It mints new currency

To facilitate intimacy

On a planetary scale,

It administers herbs

To sooth and heal

The afflicted on earth.

My religion

Is made of seeds

Carried by many winds

From various corners of the world

To cross pollinate the earth

To bear succulent fruits

To enrich souls in search.

In my religion

We wear our hearts

On our tattered sleeves

We embrace all faiths

Of the world

With feminine passion.

In my religion

We write prose

About the past

To tell truth

About the deeds

Of the ancestors,

We compose poems

To torment depravity of power

So that the young feel possessed

To mold new hope

For the future.

In my religion

The heart is kept warm

The mind stays alert

Like an open temple

To welcome worshippers

Whose souls wander about

Seeking hope and home.

In my religion

We lend an ear

To the agony

Of the lonely hearted,

Then we extend hands

In good faith

To other hearts

To interlock

To give birth

In a new light.

In my religion

We embrace warmly

All perceived disabilities

As enriching diversities.

In my religion

Refugees find shelter

They are given food

They are offered water

Not as aliens in a foreign land

But as members of the human race.

Because in my religion

There are no purity tests

There are no racial caves

There are no national agendas

The world can discern

A soaring dream of peace

About to be born

In concrete acts of love.

Tomorrow

With the sunrise

My religion

Nurtured by acts of love

Will bear succulent fruits

And brew ecumenical drinks

To heal an anemic world

And protect the living

From the storms

Of competing animus

That parcels out our lives

Into suffocating silos.

In my religion

The testimony of faith

Is not in beautiful words

But in eloquent acts of love

Flowing from generous hearts

And from open minds

To give dignity

Its due in our lives.

In my religion

We wear each other’s shoes

To feel each other pain

To charge the heart

Into ecumenical action.

Amii Omara-Otunnu

POETRY CORNER

MY HERITAGE

IN SOLIDARITY

MY RELIGION

I ADORE OWLS AND BEES