Bark

Dogs bark because it is their religion.

Let them bark.

Every creature deserves a faith,

and some are unfortunate enough

to find theirs in noise.

Let them bark at strangers,

at shadows,

at passing storms.

The day you take religion away

from the myopic and the illusioned,

they will have to confront

what they have been barking at.

So let them bark.

Until they realise

barks are all they have left.

No teeth.

No claws.

And bones too fragile

to carry the weight

of their borrowed convictions.

But should they wander

into your corridors

mistaking indifference for hospitality,

don’t let them confuse patience with permission.

They will bark.

That is what dogs do.

Offer them a chewed-on bone tomorrow,

and they will trade loyalties

before you have finished blinking.

You see,

faith is only valuable

as long as it is affordable.

Which is why

dogs do not worship god;

they barter him for bones.