At Some Point Poem by Thabani Khumalo

I have given up on the competition to paradise.
At some point when we were young and drowsy,
we were marching in the light of God;
we were marching all the way to Mount Zion in Jerusalem.
We broke a sweat, in the sun, dancing behind Pinky gorilla -
who was dancing from a moving car trailer -
and we wished for heavens to descend flat
upon the ground with the hallowed beautiful Christ;
the crucified idol on some mountain at Golgotha,
we wished to see the king of paradise in the flesh,
and in truth, and with naked eyes walk upon the earth.
So on we strove and prayed with tears in our eyes
but Jesus had remained consistently the same -
a dead preacher hanging on an upright post.

I only turned around when I remembered,
when I remembered how far I had gone
out of comfort of a place called home -
in the despised glorious Babylon of yore,
(where we defied the ordinances of the Abrahamic God)
which is now marred with evil suspicions -
in a vain quest of appeasing a foreign god of Israel.

Farewell Yaweh and all thy ordinances for good;
the name of god to whom I will never,
but never again confide my dearest truths;
the weakling secrets of my sacred heart.
I am going to return to Babylon like a flower
and all our earls shall dare condone my former rebellion.
I will be transplanted again in the garden of beautiful lights.