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by Sudeep Soparkar
(Mumbai, India)

I have never needed God
As a personal savior
In my practical life
Inference about His existence
Was never music to my ears
But always seemed vague
Missing a dimension although I didn’t know how to say this.
Neither a philosophical God nor a religious God
Suddenly appears among His creations
In the middle declaration of wisdom in Holy places.
And certainly not in disclosures of holy inner principles
And also not among poets, unfortunately.
Astronomical bodies at night and mystical landscapes around the globe
Bear His between-the-lines existence,
His words inked.
The expression of an ultra-Orthodox man’s eyes in a different sect — 
Even this
And even the purifying surrender of a sly and seasoned entrepreuner, irreligious
When you criticize him.
Something like “to your beliefs and He will love you.”
And you, when you cleanse yourself of anxious constraints about your environment
After taking intoxicants.
Springs of purity whose origins you’re unaware of
Bubble in hunting blood, in glands, in milk
And your almost subconscious innerness
Your being suddenly revealed — 
Is this clear enough to you, heredity? Genes?
Or existential uniqueness, a maintained infancy that knocks you
Out with a sense of a refreshing origin.
Everything becomes clear in a great light.
You shed repulsion and resistance,
A great positivity germinates within you — 
This gloriousness this wonder
Comprises of
Absolutes of — 
Objective truth, complete justice, decency
Honor and pride internalized
Honesty and complex wisdom enhanced down to the last detail.
Yes, complete, self purity.
Suddenly you relish a reasoning of your own
For decisive proof of His existence:
God is an idea — 
Ideas don’t have material existence
But they exist nonetheless
So God exists definitively as the spirit of an idea,
To support us and encourage us
To help not divert from our ideas
That sits well with philosophy.


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