Alene Terzian: Not a Love Poem #10: Modern Day Religion

Now that the worst is over, I will find
you kneeling in church, asking forgiveness
from one savior or another because you
were never good with god or apologies.

The light through stained-glass will form
rings around your head, and you will see
a halo, think you’ve been saved, flip
through genesis and chant god is great.

You will understand the language,
but never the faith, not with apostolic
conviction, not like the saints, staring
at your pinched up face.

Instead, you will pretend the messiah
will spare you for your five minute
prayer, your full-throated halleluiah,
your aching knees.

You will come away having eaten a wafer
or two, drank cheap wine, knelt before
the cross, father and holy ghost, thought jesus
should have been a little less naked.

It will make sense next week when you become
a buddhist or taoist or jew. Then you will know
how quickly each wick burns to reveal
the shiny metal bottom.



Copyright Alene Terzian. Used here by kind permission of the author.