MY RELIGION
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