My Secret Religion

My Secret Religion

by Kelp

I do not worship tree sprites
When I embrace this tree.
I plant myself on fertile earth,
The tree envelops me.

And what is worship anyway?
I cannot fathom this.

The candle burns, what spirit
Gambols in the apex
Of the flame that points and doesn’t
To the points we least expect?

What if this incense within us
Leaves no lasting fragrance?

I repeat these holy words,
Until there’s no until.
What counts, perhaps, is not the act,
Save the flawed rehearsal.

And what if all intention is
The unintended consequence?

So look for me among the
Dryads, in the dancing eye,
Where words dissolve like powder,
Like the I into the I.

If my questions go unanswered
I will praise Thee nonetheless.