Sunday, February 1, 2015

Prayer of the Hypocrite


Forgive me for intruding
I know I don’t believe
It’s more reaction
Than reflection
Habituation than belief

Yet still
I catch myself
Casting prayer
Into the cosmos
Hoping,

For what I’m not sure
Answered prayers?
Quaint relic of past beliefs
God knows they were
Few and far between

God and I 
Arrived long ago
At an understanding
He maintained his silence
And I my disbelief

Yet still
Now and then
I’ll twitter
I’ve accepted
He doesn’t tweet me back

Perhaps I am a hypocrite
Though labels often hide the truth
I think God knows the truth of that

Having often been 
Labelled God
__________________

I have often reflected over the past years on my hypocrisy.  I was brought up in the church and taught to pray from an early age, I became a minister of religion and preached on the importance of prayer.  Yet time, silence and my reality as a gay man rusted the bars of belief in a personal God until now I no longer believe.  My hypocrisy lies in the fact that though no longer believing I still find myself casting prayer into the universe, a reflexive habit from my days in the church?  This poem attempts to capture some of that feeling of hypocrisy.

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