I saw a Muslim man roll out his prayer carpet in Union Square park
to prostrate to his god.
People, dogs, pigeons, were passing by his intimacy.
“I wish I had that kind of pride in my faith,” I thought.
I don’t carry a prayer rug with me anywhere.
I left my religion, gave away so many keepsakes
and boiled down my vows so that
I’m the only one who knows who I really am.
But I told all of you yesterday, and the day before that,
that I believe in Light.
I said it without thinking twice.
And tomorrow, I will get up with the sun
to say it over and over and over again:
I live for the Light.
I promise.

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