Donna Y. Orme-Collins is a former cult member who shares her experiences through poetry. The following poem expresses the intense feelings and emotions involved in being in a cult and growing up in one. [read more poems...]

Donna Y. Orme-Collins

THE GODDESS REMEMBERS THE BIRTHS OF JESUS, BUDDHA & MOHAMMAD

The end of faith came like a dream
As I nursed the tiny baby to be King
Watching his words spill out like water in the sand
His sad eyes, his tired face
His cross

The crowd is crazy for revenge
They will see blood and death
Or they will not see Sunday

For love is a dirty word
In a sea of politics and power
Though it grows and strengthens
It is easily forgotten

In it’s place the Righteous kill
For the ‘One’ truth
Turns violent and clean

A tiger on a hunt with clear visions
To wipe out the meek
Inheriting nothing but poverty, despair and lies

When the Enlightened One arrived
I nursed him too
I kissed the tears that never left his cheeks
He spoke of compassion
He walked the middle way

But again the crowd was wild
In return for all that should ‘just be’
They came up with war
And loyalty to emperors and tyrants

They hobbled the Mother God
Bleeding she fled away from the dying cries of female infants

When at last I held the little boy of providence within my arms
I touched his dark curls with oils
I anointed him the Prophet
Coming to speak of clarity of conscience
Godly ways of discipline
Charity and brotherhood

The crowd turned inside out and started stoning women
Cutting off their hair, hiding their faces
Praying for Holy War
As if war could ever be Holy

Blood again on Sunday
On everyday

So I turned to stone

For all my Sons were gone
All wisdom washed away
All love left

But Religion and Hate remained

Written with Sept 11th in mind and all the misery of the last 2000 years.