I grew up in a place with a church on every corner

And the people that fill them sing songs about Our Father

on Sunday mornings, and pray they’ll be forgiven

for Saturday nights.

I have come to believe that religion is good

But religions are another thing altogether

For who is to say where love ends

And dogma begins?

I carry hollow bones

Carved with limericks and runes

One to remind me there is mystery

The other to remind me there is laughter