O Anubis,
false god
with jackal laugh
do not cast your gaze upon me
from your museum shelf,
with emerald eyes
envenomed with hate’s arsenic.
You are not my God,
who is God of love.
My God is forged in my soul
in warm shades
like a brooding dove
that hatches inner light.
My God with tremulous voice
sunk deep in an oboe
resounding
in the reeds of my bones.
And when his breast’s incubator
fails to warm me
He smiles at me,
Holy Spirit,
in the azure domes and alcoves
of breathtaking turrets,
mind boggling
with eternal wisdom.
My God stretches with the filigree vines
in the missal illuminated
with the mystery
of blood red grapes.
O Anubis,
false god
with jackal laugh
do not cast your gaze upon me
from your museum shelf,
with emerald eyes
envenomed with hate’s arsenic.
You are not my God,
who is God of love.