My Religion (Version 1)

For you to find balance,
You must look at something immovable,
some stable,
a constant.

If your eyes shift,
if they view something that sways,
if the mind becomes aware it is responsible for balance,
you will fail.

You have the power to stay balanced however,
whether endowed or inalienable; present.
Yet, you still need to see something infallibly achieving stability
in order to achieve stability

We are children of imitation.
It is the way we develop.
A default setting responsible for the evolution of 7 billion years.
It is inescapable.

The knowledge that you are in charge,
that this world is inherently yours to change
control,
is no substitute for recognizing other entities
whether imagined or real
they are the outlets for each of our individuals power cords.

Our power comes from a grid,
an undeniable connectivity scientifically proven.

So odd,
that while alone,
we are enough:
we are worthless without each other
and while completely capable in one’s self,
you are worthless without others.

So we find our imitation in each other.
The way father shaves
our brother’s throwing arm
Dorothy obsessive use of make-up
mother’s hypocritical tendencies

We copy these things,
Either deliberately or by accident.
And we think it will be enough.
Think that we will soon be fluid in the language of life so long as we know how to write a check,
ride a bike,
change a tire.

We assume we will find peace if we memorize the actions of  those around us,
we think them stable who we most admire.
But what the mind understands
the sub-conscious proves false.
It is more in tune to fractional sways
to the gentle fallibility of the hu,ans around us.

So we look up.
Through clouds,
beyond the sun that’s always "just passing through"
and the stars we’ve known to burst into to dust
since the beginning of time
and we look into the deepest darkness we have ever known,

A canvas
vast enough for us to create something.
Perhaps a painting of ourselves,
balancing,
in perfect harmony with the universe.

We don’t tell ourselves it’s us though.
Only a small majority would be so vain.

Some of us balance out the picture with opposites:
If I am a woman,
He must be a man.
If I am black,
he must be white,
blue eyes
long hair

But most importantly,
he must be everything I wish I were;
kind,
full of grace, knowledge,
understanding,
able to love unconditionally.

He will achieve the stability of which I will never feel capable,
So that when I am alone,
hands steepled to chest,
balancing with one foot arched above my knee;
pigeon’s pose,
I will have something
to look at.