Written by: Wonga Tsalupondo
Sometimes – through your grace
I wonder what exactly your purpose is.
I ponder, though I dare not ponder deeply
- The deeper I would go the more impious I would be in your eyes
And in the eyes of your ‘righteous’ followers.
You watch us from unfathomable,
Ethereal corners of the Universe.
You watch without saying a word,
As you supposedly left it with us eons ago.
So long ago that your word has become phatic and questionable.
We hold it up high, though.
We do so with pride, too
(I swear you’ve got to be proud)
When those who beg to differ
Are atrociously ‘silenced’ in your name.
More times than not, we don’t question our morality.
Instead, we feel justified and vindicated.
Because in your eyes we are!
I walk on eggshells around your ten injunctions.
Though I often find myself crucified for loving differently
I marvel at this, too.
As, in your words – your 2nd greatest command – you say:
“thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”
I (try to) love my neighbour, even though, given half a chance,
He would off me in your name.
This is the same Man I taught how to fish not too long ago.
This is the same Man who stole my favorite shirt,
Yet when he was cold, I gave him my coat.
Despite his iniquity towards me;
Despite my clemency,
He spits on my face, calls me all sorts of names,
Hits me black and blue, blotto or not
Screams ‘infidel’ and throws daggers my way,
Whenever my lover is around,
Or when I worship you like he surreptitiously worships my body rather than his wife’s.
It is because of this, this madness,
This divide, the atrocious (holy) wars,
The impeccable genocides,
Our collective insanity,
That I think maybe the Sanskrit was right by saying:
The churches are maya; all is maya.
I think the churches are burning,
We’re growing demented, as a result.
But in the very end the illusion will be scorched, right?
And you’ll reveal your true supreme Being.
Is this your purpose? Your grand plan, perhaps?
…I hope it's all worth it. (It has to be!)
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