XLVII
MY HERETICAL GOD

What do I care when they say I’m damned
if you bless me, my heretical God;
your sacred right hand weaves my destiny
and you teach me that life is short

and death is very long. Your silence
comforts me, telling me never to stop
casting into the wind all the things
which urges others to struggle.

Lord, as long as you do not finally
ask me to reveal our secret, you know
that I will never criticize them;

it is no surprise that they anathematize me;
it is only fair that the Church may use the
Keys to the Kingdom to scratch their flees.