you may have gone to Rome
and had the shower of the holy water
to the churches of France
to the hamlets of Galilee
to the holy places of Iran
and Israel
kiss the imprint of the foot of
Abraham
taste the dried blood of Jesus
along the streets
to the mountain of the skulls
these are the last places
of your absolution
as you ask forgiveness for all your sins
but there is this journey
that you have to finally take
inward to yourself
no popes, no cardinals,
no holy water, no incense,
no alms, no offerings
no prayers no incantations
the longest journey
on that feetless world
you leap the chasm of darkness
and with closed eyes
you take the chronicles of faith
ask for undeserved mercy
and arrive at myriad doubts
and feel the perfect void
of your innate nothingness
your worthlessness
hope you will find
yourself
nearer to God's embrace
in the silent waters
of your soul
the sacred law says
you must die to yourself
for you to be alive
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem