So, I’m drawn to your religion
On the basis of aesthetic.
I want to feel the way that
Golden, plump, laughing Buddha
Feels without having to read the stories.
I want to embrace the wu wei--
Whatever that means--
I want to sit criss-crossed
In the long, naples yellow grass
With no ticks.
In the orange afternoon sun
With no nighttime.
I want to worship at a smoky altar
And feel the arms of
My Goddess wrap around me.
Hear her voice: slow, smooth, but stern.
“Thank you,” for the sacrifice.
I want to be divine--God
Gaze down from the Heavens
And take pride in my light
Like I am your son;
I want to be free of the burden
Of my humanness,
Lifted,
Cleansed,
Purified.
I wish to be free of desire
And so it is the desire which ails me.
And I curse nothing more
Than I curse my hungry heart
And my faulty mind.
Lifted,
Cleansed,
Purified.
