SIGN LANGUAGE

 

I stare at a sign

It's new

Speaks of change

that some say is due

It stands buoyed, spine erect

Pride swelling with the collective breath

of a selected few

Them that have stayed true

and with patience have waited

Believing in illusions

crafted and created

Stories that have changed hands

morphing over years to its present avatar

As flagrant clickbait

I stare at a book

Translated yet again

Origins forgotten, perhaps

lying in a catacomb with the dying

A compilation of religious prejudice

A treatise of sorts, A man-made compromise 
that profited some, 

Them that chose The Chosen

Who escaped persecution 
and stayed true to describe a path

with a prescribed view

No digression from a unified ideal

Winning wars, armed with zeal 

And a dream of cherished after life

I stare at the earth

now divided and demarcated 

Stamped all over with curses and blessings

of judgements both loved and hated

Awaiting a new sign 

Another entry into another chapter 

of mythical reality