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My Protean Faith
My faith is a garden
on a cracked granite stone
where the seeds of Arden
have already been sown
with three turtle boulders
and a red bonsai tree
hunched over my shoulder
in quiet harmony
where soft murmuring brooks
spill transmundane stories
into child-laden nooks
of great golden glories
~
My faith is seven beads
strung on eternal string
with earnest, whispered pleads
heralded on a wing
one mantra, my comfort,
a thousand times I’ve said
my eyes I avert from the
temptation of the dead
solemnly I await
in silent confession
under a mosque ornate
laden with expression.
~
My faith is deep incense,
a majestic teal smoke,
sedating my suspense
to Him, pray I, invoke!
heaving, I lay prostrate
beneath a wooden cross
my mind a slave to fate
under the dread of loss
a sole candle I light
to ban obscurity,
and murmur sacred rites
alone for purity.
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