Poems are better than prose sometimes.

Here’s the thing.

I grew up loving my religion.


It helped me to feel safe, and loved.

It offered me a moral compass,

And connected me to generosity.


It also taught me some unkindness –

Mostly towards myself.


And later still, it became too narrow

For my wild heart –

Much too reckless for these rules.


Doubting their simplicity, and mistrusting their cruelty.

Who gives me this authority?


There’s a questions I cannot answer,

Nor avoid.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s