Gathering of the Faithful

 I pull ten thousand doors shut, hear just as
many approving thuds. Walls have stood
then fallen while I claim the stone incline.
I pull my scarf tighter around my head,

ecclesiastically bound… bound.
Triple digits pursed, I self-sanctify
my entrance into candlelit liturgy.
Stoic sainted icons suffer my first

plea, prayerful antiphons amass.
Anamnestic persuasions flow, now
flow… baptized anew, belief molten
into my bones. It cools and hardens –

metal weight behind the words I will fling
at the unbelievers, the doubters, the souls
in peril. The censer swirls, its smoke enshrines
those of us worthy of the one true faith.






Entry in the "Philosophical Vantage Points" competition