I pray to no one-
Though once, I confess to worshipping a rock;
It seemed far older, than any god that I had true proof of existence
I scrubbed it gently with a toothbrush, perfumed and powdered it
(well so what, if those were all my favorite things;
isn't god just supposed to be a larger, matinée version of ourselves?)
And I knew a Malaysian man
Who said he used to worship a nail
protruding from the bathroom wall,
protruding from the bathroom wall,
Where he would bend down and prostrate himself before it
While brushing his teeth, performing his morning absolutions;
As somehow it seemed to satisfy his requirements
Of a god, who for once perhaps
Was not afraid to humble himself, before his subjects.
I wondered if prayer is an act of desperation
ReplyDeleteor an act of reverence...communion
or is it just naked hope
dangling from the end of all its other devises
whatever it is you have captured it here
....now what will you feed it?
This is one of your best. You capture so well the futility of man's need to worship something beyond himself and how he invests his god with the qualities he needs - a god in a rock or nail is as adequate as that of orthodox religions.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, one of your best, along with God Hides in the Smallest Places.
ReplyDeleteI continuously link your works to Emily Dickinson because you take an idea that reminds me of her and interpret it into a poem in your own style.
Lovely poem! Definitely bookmarked.
Well, I somehow think that people can delude themselves. There is only one thing that matters.
ReplyDelete