An Agnostic Defends Prayer

Those witch hunters,
Thirsting for enemy blood,
Crying to their heartless soulless gods of war and commerce,

They give it a bad name.

And thoughtsandprayers as a unit are a social bandaid
We solicitously apply to the wounds of strangers
As we cavort on with our lives.

When we feel spiritualimnotreallyreligious

We set intention
Mindfully meditate
Soulfully superior to the snake-dancers, tongue-speakers
Climate change deniers, gay-haters, finger-sandwiches-from-the-auxiliary eaters

But
prayer is a structure
for thought

prayer has us review our values,
tally them, bright beads on our
not-rosary

reflect on them
and then simplify what we are asking for
what resolution we seek
what help we need

having dressed the room for our best company,
we don't slouch on that sofa as we pray
we consider how our ask will look hanging on that wall facing the window

we judge our ask
weigh the solicitation we make
consider the bargains we will enter into

and then, satisfied, we throw it up, invite the universe in
sometimes we get an answer
sometimes we find it in the couch cushions
sometimes the tidy room is enough.

I went looking for Buddha (I thought)

I thought I went looking for Buddha
Settled into middle-class comfort now
A late midlife lull of mindfulness and peace
With my body
With my fortunes
With my soul's state
I was ready to meditate,
Align with my Western
Middle Class
Buddha-mind.

I thought I went looking for Buddha
But I found Shiva
Evil-destroyer
Transformer
Creator
Not one, but
One of --
Tripartite god
Batter my heart.

Shiva, who dances
Serpent-entwined,
Balances in
Dynamic power pose
Ascetic and
Demon-slayer

Shiva, holding counsel with
Vishnu and Brahma

Which aspect found me?
Parvati, some guidance?

Nataraja Shiva,
Parvati and Google tell me.
The dancer
The source of all movement
Creation and destruction
Release of the self

The restless energy within I had thought to quell
Whips and waves in a tidal dance
Demands release
Let go
Let come

Destroy the old to make way for the new
As cells do
As cities do

And as tarots do, my Shiva reveals an answer that was within me.
Let go
Let come
The fires of creation.

Of course.
Of course.

Red Room

In this red room I circle,
Wheedle the few
Words that break through,
Weave them, knead them, mold and massage them
Into meanings that might
Lift this leaden lumpen carapace.
Tracing the nautilus, thinking
Deeply, nerves pores senses open to
Quantum turbulence, to
Your intentions, to
My grace, essays, defeat.
In this red room
I wait.