She Is My Religion

She is my religion,
Her soul is my sanctuary.
I find solace in her happiness.

There is a realm inside
The crevices of her being
Where I can obtain peace at any time.

Whether at the heightof day
Or the deepest of purple nights,
my sacredness is her solitude.

She is my religion.

It is her I believe in.

Her system’s make-up
mirrors the Ancient Moons
Of Ancestors who own the rights
to our so-called "modern" civilization.

We should be praying
To the Mothers who gave birth
To the wisdom she whispers in my ears.

It is the echoes of the night
that encourage me to pray to her.
To share my deepest thoughts and secrets
in the company of her calm.

She is my religion.

My baptism occurred
One morning as she sang a song
To me in my early years of
understanding music, song.

At that very moment,
I belonged in between
Each and every syllable.

In between the rhythmical,
The painted pictures.

Each word was holy water
upon my fore head, and tip of my tongue.

My religion became stories passed on
Through her vessel. My beliefs, the color
Of English’s tasteful vowel sounds.

She is my religion:
The naked moon seeming to travel
With me hand in hand as we revolve around
One another for the sake of balance, life.

I pray to thee:

May I continue to breathe
As Sacred sands cover the lands
Of this holy Earth.

May women continue to give birth.

May men continue to search for knowledge.

May children continue to have the freedom
needed to nurture them before life teaches them.

May bees continue to sip nectar from flowers.

May trees continue to bud during Spring.

May every animal protect their young
and be a part of this thing we call life.

I hope rainbows decorate our skies after rainfall
And we continue to love as human beings.

She is my religion.
She is a solar system
Of waves and regions
Of laughter and light.

She is woman, wisdom, the moon, the night.

(c) Christopher Donshale Sims 2007