Descriptions · Religion

They Talk In Riddles


Maryam Z is a beautiful, creative and kind soul that I am lucky enough to call my friend.  She wrote the following piece.  I rarely post stuff by other people on this blog, but I found this so exquisite that I couldn’t resist.  I post it with her permission, and on the condition that I ‘will not use it to build a case against anything’ :P. It is the last in this recent series of posts related to religion. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 

Why do these self proclaimed men of faith talk in a way that is alien to me
They talk in riddles
Even the way that they utter the word God is super natural, special
They are not men
they are angels
beyond the grasp of a common soul like me

Where can I find a man of faith
Not so different from you and I
Who does not wear the label of self righteousness on his collar
Whose character and not clothes define him
Who has the beauty of all human weaknesses and imperfections

And I look at these angels with wings of Ivory and robes of Satin
Angels sitting on golden thrones of faith and power
so high and mighty
far above my mortal reach
So perfect, yet so bleak and austere
And I hear no calling
Nothing pulls me to them
They make me self conscious of all my sins and short comings
So I walk away

I’d rather walk with men who have welcoming spirits than with angels possessing icy cold eyes.

Condescending.

They live in their houses of glass and white marble

People like you and I….
Our children flourish and play in the dirt and filth of this earth
They do not have wings to leap off the ground and live amongst the stars
They can not walk in houses of glass and white marble
They can not enter with out bringing in the grime
They are not welcome
They do not belong

And I carry on my search
In a crowd of men crawling upon this world
Men covered in sweat and dirt
Men with their differences, egos and Pride
With their dreams of glory and immortality
With their failures and heart break
Their minds perhaps corrupted with temptation and evil
Their intentions questionable
Their souls marred by lust, envy and deception
And I seek out the men of faith with all these flaws
Who can struggle to find freedom and salvation within all their limitations
Who can dare to embrace the reality and weaknesses of their own existence
They do not speak in riddles
They are not angels
But men
Made of clay
And they do not claim to be any thing more or less

Maryam Z.

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