She argued constantly with Lao
about the Tao; and Chairman Mao
threw the Book at her.
She bowed to Hindu's sacred cow,
and pored over the Zofar.
The Gnostic gospels rocked her boat
and to Yahweh she sacrificed a goat-
every day.
On the bus to the office she read the Koran
and knew everything about the Greek god Pan.
A lapsed Catholic, a former nun,
she could recite her beads in 5 minutes flat
and found it fun.
One auspicious day, Mary, Buddha, and Mohammed
appeared in her kitchen as apparitions.
'Sorry, to leave you in the lurch, '
she said as she gathered her beads and books,
and esoteric paraphernalia
'but I'm late for church.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem