Religion. ©
~Rachele Riley
Church on Sundays can become some's
Haven for Justification
Heavy on affirmations, but talk is free.
I stare, frozen in sheep mode as I become many a reason for initiation.
A cheap purchase. While I too am frugal and fiscally responsible, Luxury over Knockoffs are called for occasionally.
Overflowing. No shut off valve, but not too much reciprocity in giving.
No boundaries or simply surrounded by wolves in sheep's clothing. Eh. It's all about table preppin' anyway.
I feel it, yet it's not about me.
Your energy swirls around me. Struggling.
The internal battle is for your soul and I draw them out.
I play with your demons melodically and they hate me.
I said this before in my poetry. THEY HATE ME.
It was never about flesh. It's those demonic attachments that you may not even know are attached!
They dislike my acute accuracy and patience to work with and through them.
I only know about yours because I've learned how to confront and conquer my own. Lurking.
They pop up at times like the whack a mole, but still I RISE.
It's not judgement or shame or embarrassment. I just got really really good at it.
Practice makes perfect. You know like fencing. It's such a fencing vibe. Old Money.
Chess in my dreams. I always say life is like a delicate ballet, but to a Royalty ft. Neoni beat.
I grew up in Religion. Catholic school. Church EVERY Friday Mernin'.
Then made to go on Sundays. Yet, I always wondered why the vibe was so stoic, so condensed.
Spiritually heavy. One or two times I think I actually fell asleep!
It's as if they were congregating in discipline and as a kid, I could truly understand it!
Actions never aligned with norms or words, and perhaps this was their way to repent.
Very consistent with it, I assumed to obtain results, yet the opposite of what consistency gets.
There was never a changed behavior pattern, only the same boring routine. Insanity!
Most of us become the prodigal, because we were not taught ingenuity in regards to relationship with our Source.
At 25 I began to write. It flowed out of me like an undiscovered spring located somewhere in the middle of good ole' Mississippi, but I was back home in New Orleans.
Falling in love with words again, I tattooed Liberation on one forearm and Set. Me. Free. on the other.
The next few hurt worse, but beauty is pain they say and here I am 5 c-sections in.
Ejypt on my side.
Two Crowns on my lower hip.
Love is the Music of the Soul on my right rib cage.
Lyric on my spine.
That's it.
SideNote:
My walk today allowed for a reminder that your relationship with God is number 1. Children need to know the Power he wields through them once you accept and cultivate it. Perception is never reality when you are one with him. Always felt like a walky talky paradoxy in the flesh. Religion delivered as the disinterested, monotonous routine. A reminder to read the stories. The stories are guides and are all about Overcoming.