when you were a child
did your mother ever pick you up and point to a curling river
and tell you THIS IS BEAUTY
did your father ever hoist you over his shoulders
and say THIS IS FREEDOM
did your older brother teach you all the constellations
and scream at the stars, with all their white caps
THIS IS GOD

good god, this is God.
this is God and He has made all the difference
in our Lives. He created the dauntless Sun
and the briny oceans, the lithe serpents and the demure fauns.
this is Nature. she held your Hand before you
even knew you had Fingers. she filled your Stomach
with Moths and you dreamed a bloodless Belly of wax figurines:

you called the first one your Mother,
for she had bleached fingernails and
a leaden heart of gossamer tendrils
that reached beneath your sternum and
made a pact of LOVE

you called the second one your Father,
for he came with a long pipe but no smoke,
a sable shotgun but no bullets,
a white collared shirt but no cuff links.
his eyes fluttered half-open in a moment of regard,
then settled back in their viscous sockets.

you named the third one after Me.
it was an odd-shaped thing, always twisting
and convulsing into new forms. sometimes i was
as small and useless as a marble, other times
i was mottled and scabrous,
a sadistic nightmare.

i have tried so hard to understand your Pain.
i reached beneath my churning flesh and pulled
out a dried-up lump.
i called this my soul.

i have tried so hard to understand your Beauty.
i clawed at my face which was sharp and angular
like parquet. curdled wax melted off my cheeks and
i felt my shredded complexion collect in a
puddle of hot acid at my feet.
i called this caustic broth my salvation.

i have fallen before a hundred gods
and still have not found Freedom.
i do not think any religion could ever
tell me what it is exactly
to be Free.

i called to my Mother and my Father,
my ill-conceived family
which i begged to free me.

i stood bent over and retched for
an eternity before i finally
digested the Truth.