Bow-Bend-Break

Feeling caught, stuck in God’s hypothetical conversation.
Nothing like him, nothing like them.
Just ordinary and irresponsible.
Rama and Jesus toy with me, threatening debt collections.
I see this for what it is, out of hymn books and mythological mantras.
Dizzied by the nirvana.
Which holy right keeps me scratching at the door, faltering on each sin that snuffles at my own?
Crush me with sandalwood beads and drown my lungs in incense.
My blood is yours and bleeds a pious pigment.
Down on such bended knees.
How long till it ends, or until the world is created?
Leave me to count the spines of the leviathan that I follow down into the deep.
To the innermost depths of an Edenistical land washed clean by the flood.
Sipping antibiotics and feasting on scraps.
Clipping my own wings.

Submerged in aniconism

What fire within me did you spark?
Calling across the cosmos.
The face of you, dancing out of the shadows.
Like a veiled wonder.
Dripped in sacrament and androgyny.
There is no room for impartial taste.
I must feel the sweat and blood on my lips.
Know it is worth the effort.
Bow.
Pray
Repeat.
Wanting to know everything.
Shivering out Shiva and Buddha from my bones.
This place you speak of, my one; where is the lighted beginning? 
I touch this ground, feeling home.
Touch the sky in every moment that floats by.
These million moments waiting for me.
As I live forever in a state devoid of time and space.
That lonely place.
Dancing and spinning on God’s fingertips.