The path of religion
hides and seeks in broken eddies
of intoxicated laughter
in souls rubbing up against souls
in children kneeling in day-old moss
in the audience inhaling with the divine singer
in rosaries of shells and stones
strung by foam
at ocean’s edge
we walked in procession with the quiet roll of the planet
toward the escaping stars
remembering when we stood up
and laughed together
and led the inner voices in a progression of belief
never calling our worship religion
nor clutching at the icons cluttering temples of seriousness
our dance
traced formless in the heavens
propelled into the cosmos beyond
to mingle with the humor of distant particles
to glitter in the stars and the comet’s tail
to taunt the heavy black holes
our walking has always been a refutation of mass
a religion of soaring energy
a detailed chart of the heavens
drawn with song
whispers
brush and dust
an unpolished artifice known between us but not kept
our path
is prayer procreating itself
pilgrimage open and rambling
paradise un-proclaimed.