God enters by a private door into each individual. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I love you God,
a singular thing;
needs no ritual nor chorus hymns,
no audience, no gatherings,
no special place,
no right timings.
A communion, always working.
I see you through your signs without,
And connect with you within;
and find you on the inside
and transmute the inside-out—-
advance, retreat--
wherever you lead, depending on need.

I love you God,
a personal thing;
no less profound than the loudest can profess,
and as Catholics confess;
the most ardent amass,
wherever they bless:
mega-church, cathedral
temple and mosque.

I love you, God,
a spiritual thing;
and leave religion out of it.
Dogmas only muddy it.
A simple faith
and comforting;
deep-rooted, all-encompassing;
my One-in-Everything—-
Every one’s—-
Tree of Life, God of Love.
Somehow known, never alone,
though never seen, your face.

© Helga Ross 2007