Strong in its architecture,
Attractive in its stature was the evidence of a colonised statedom.
And as thousands of the faithful crammed the entrance,
I was left but amused at the desire to get divine grace,
Some more genuine than others.
I thought back in history,
Of days when nature was sacred
The creator was believed to reside in the forests and mountains,
And they were right in believing this,
For what inspires the soul more than the tranquillity of birds singing?
The photographic view of an amazing landscape?
The scent of indigenous trees moving to the wind's rhythm?
The slavery that comes with defying roots,
The ghost that haunts our souls.
For what is a house of God but a distraction from the outside life?
Think of the way bodies are packed close into personal space,
Women who parade both boob and butt cleavage shamelessly as if it were a race
Noisy kids throwing tantrums and playing unable to keep up with the grown ups pace
And when the preacher talks of putting words into action,
He is talking to an already sunken ship!
This is the character of the places of worship,
A buzz of unnecessary activities,
From fashion parades to markets,
Concert halls to political battle fields
The simple concept of worshipping has been thrown out of the window.
I remember the few times I drew pleasure from prayer
I was in a room with nothing but my soul to bare,
It was quiet,
The tranquil which lifted me closer to the heavens,
I felt Him in me
I prayed, I thought
At that moment,
life was more attractive
I knew peace.
With the dynamism the houses of worship have adapted,
So does the reason for attendance vary,
Some look for entertainment, others for partners
A few are just following routine.
However,
If you crave for something deeper,
The grace that comes from above,
You should consider visiting a 'mugumo' tree!
