The Two Heads Of Piety

I caught a glimpse of Ol' Jose, 

He crossed the threshold of church to pray,

He bowed down and muttered solemnly.

Suddenly, Ol' Nena came too inside,

She perched silently beside Ol' Jose and looked into the void,

Right there, in front of the altar, she closed her eyes and confessed.

O, two heads of piety,

Which of you is the holy?

The one who bows down and prays fervently?

Or she who stares into nothingness and mutters endlessly?

O, two heads of piety,

Both created by God but have unlikely credence,

Is there anything wrong or right in praying?

Or maybe we are bemused by faith and different beliefs?

Author's Note

This is a poet's take on religion.

Reviews

[Mk.t.g]

Nicely composed, Jenev! Loved your writing style here.
Mk.t.g

[Jenev]

Thank you! I'd love to read your entries here soon. Glad I finally found a website where I can shamelessly post my poems. :)

[Mk.t.g]

You're Welcome, Jenev!