To whom should I pray to
The One whom faces the East.
Or to the One who conquered the Cross
For the former was a Private God,
Of which I prayed through Culture;
Still confused I am than I ever was
If its by Faith or Tradition that appease God.
For in delight I groomed my life
Which gave room for a new talent.
Its fruits bore with quick strife,
Or its punishment never deterred
Such was the practise ever rife;
All being smooth till I married a wife.
She prayed I stopped bowing to a Strange God
Denouncing woe on the Chief Priest,
How dare she cursed a man so great
Whom unknown to me he fought her faith;
I later came to accept one day,
A challenge he lost to a Stronger deity.
To my surprise to renounce my old faith
I see the Chief priest with a new book,
A bible I was told he now possess!
And a new disciple of what I’m about to profess,
Strange indeed is this God so deep
It converted the one whom I held in high esteem.
As for me its still the same
The prayers I say to the former is for the latter.
But a life I can’t describe is what I can’t bribe,
Persuasion shouldn’t be compared to Persecution.
Or is it the food rendered or its incantation chants,
Is substituted for Communion and Praise.
In difficulty I persisted to learn the new faith,
As I peruse in spirit between two faiths;
Which is higher or should both be practised
Together with my presence of the church gathering.
Yet again I search for meaning
As I travelled again to another religion.
Of washings of hands, faces and feet
And the mat to kiss at every sound;
I stoop to pray with the man beside
To Allah the Beneficiary and Most Merciful
I trace its history embedded Culture
Mohammed is the founder who began in Mecca
Erected beside the Jewish Temple
Began a Race with the Subha and Quar’an
Gazing east whenever in prayer
Remembering the Ancestors who taught the faith.
But blurred and controversial is there to chase,
Its many shoots and promise made;
If gone deeper, what would be my lot?
Or if left shallow, a fight with the brothers’ slot;
So I decide to let go as such is the case,
All Islam pace as I save my face. .
Yet I remember the faith I tendered
About my will to surrender to the Hindus.
Or the Buddhist culture maybe;
But quickly I left as well as how I came,
The Practises, style so fastened to fetish means.
Remembered I sailed from towns through faith
And I ponder which I stuck never to de-base,
The faith of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit
Is what I defend till Heaven calls.
A Publication of Onyeador Anthony for Uniquely Mustered