I have been thinking about what it means to be religious lately and heard that there is more than one definition for it. Therefore, I thought it best to write this poem to express one perspective of religion.
Thank you for holding my hand my friend as I step through a sacred reality.
I love this place where sonorous pipe organ music floats through the air and flickering candle light dances about the room.
I can see myself and others, in this faithful place full of relics, symbols, and stories.
The sacred, burning, heart overhead warns lovers against becoming entangled in their quarrels on the marriage carousel.
Grotesques hide in the corners to protect me from claws trying to twist my unsteady ankles before angels lift me up to keep me from falling.
The relics, bones of the saints, remind me that death is transient and that we all became visible after we left an invisible realm;
Now, serendipity has told me that in this other world, I dreamed that I had a purpose for being here regardless of my view,
And that this is why my heart strings sing a harmonious tune.