Faith

I went to Mormon Church today
with a fever
and a wretched wracking cough
armed with cough drops
and the knowledge
of my own prophet's prophecy
that I am She
and She is me.
I bore witness to testimonies
given to the one true church
the one true god
and the true prophet
and his temple on earth.
They spoke of family
two families
biological and spiritual.
The church takes care
of the church,
it is sweet.
Their communion has no wine
but holy water instead
though I presumed
its holiness.
When I entered my home that afternoon
I thought how lonely
my own faith was,
so few of us now
how scattered we all are,
how our scripture cannot be written,
our testimony and sermon comes
in visions and deep dreams,
how we are given
in selfish selflessness
to other worlds
of ghosts and trees.
I thought of the ringing bells of christmas
and my anger at them.
I left my home and stood
in the cold rain
against the trees
watched my breath spiral upward
and I felt how lucky
I was to know my gods are me
and I am my gods.
Lucky in that my quests require
no conversion
no donation
just myself and my soul
entered into the great equation
that is the balance of the universe.

Give me no second family,
no flesh and blood of god,
no martyred sons,
no churches in foreign lands.
I walk upon my gods
and the very breath I draw
is all the prayer I need.