Continuing the Previous Post, I leave you with a more intimate writing, that touches upon my own past and upbringing. Again with a recent sketch of mine at the end of it.
I grew up to Icelandic Atheists Paternally
&
Persian Moslems Maternally
into A Land Of Christianity.
I woke up in this Life With God's Name
Intimately Echoing in my Heart.
Around the Age Of Six I joined several christian masses,
cause I was curious if there I would find God.
I went 3 Times,
until I realized the mass was a celebration of God's Funeral.
The Participants Were All On The Concealed Inside
Praying:
"God Is Dead!
The Moslems In My Family some devoted to his Religion.
But they muttered "Inshallah",
yet every happening they complained,
the will of god must have failed.
They too in their innermost Heart were praying & saying:
"God Is Dead".
They Fasted From Life. Circling A Black Tombstone Covered Square.
They Sought Respite & Relief.
Openly They Lived Craving Nothing More
Than To Die.
To Follow God Into His
Apparent Death.
My Heart ever breaking, weeping,
with God Speaking:
"But You Are Not Dead. God Lives, Alive & Well!! How Can They Not Tell???"
My Heart One Day Broke. God Escaped & Expanded From Inside Of Me.
Smiling At Me through an infinity of Faces, disguised behind every appearance Of All Life outside of me.
His Silence Loving Me & Holding me in my innermost heart.
And Through Every Voice & Sound Speaking to me from Life's every part.
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