Empowerment. Engagement. Authenticity.
Coexistence
Sunlight through stained-glass
Falls on congregations in wooden pews
Their heads bowed in silent reflection.
Choirs carol beneath polished crosses
All rejoice on Christmas Day.
My battered hymn book lays forgotten
I have learned all the words by heart.
Barefoot worshippers kneel
On tassled mats
facing
And from turreted balconies
Arabic scripture read and sung
Praises Allah on a glorious Eid day.
My grandpa scripted the sermon
He offers now to bless a new year.
A myriad potted flames
Weave patterns in the night
From invisible bamboo perches:
Heralding Mother Lakshmi,
Welcoming Lord Rama home.
Woody incense tickles my nose
As pundits recite Divali prayers.
My parents taught me that faith
Does not mean choosing sides.
Mom read to me from the Koran,
Daddy told me stories of Jesus.
We listened to our friends impart
Lessons of the Bhagavad-Gita,
We thrived in a patchwork nation.
(c) Kristy Kassie, October 5, 2002
