Bare

You wonder about Hell
and live as though it doesn't exist.
I wonder about Heaven
and live without that inspiration.
You judge me as having a faith I do not have
but merely hope for
on the basis of sunrise and sunset,
the ecstasy of shimmering sound,
nature's palette of colors,
and the miracle of life.
You judge me as feeling saved
when in fact I feel lost,
as feeling found when in fact
I feel annihilated.
You judge me as having sets of beliefs in order
like cups and plates in a cupboard,
when in fact I have neither a consistent set of beliefs
nor a cupboard for dishware.