They call me an atheist,
as I do not raise, nor fold, my palms in a prayer
Well, if palms were engraved with a certain destiny
Why would the limbless pray, in times of despair?
They call me an atheist,
as I do not mark out the days, to dress us both in grandiose
It is just that I do not want to impose
A choice of decorations, that I myself did suppose.
On those days that I did decide to celebrate,
I would not dare fool you, with a pious attire,
I would not ring any bells,
As surely he can't be deaf; the creator of the earth, air, water, and fire.
I feel no need to confess my sins,
Could there be any that you would not know?
I would not sing out my heart's desire
I would not ask you to show me which way to go.
Does one ask for the sun to rise,
Or does one ask for the stars to shine bright?
Certain things are just meant to be
At their own time; just as the day and night.
If you throw me into an abyss
I would close my eyes and comply,
assuming, that you are right behind me,
I would think that you are teaching me how to fly.
Behind every creation of yours, there is magic
and behind every magic, there are you
And as true faith is believing
I feel no need, to pray to you.
Niharika Prasad
