There are times, moods really, where the Druid path feels a bit rugged and aspirational. For such occasions the poet Hugo Williams offers another option.
If it were up to me
I would make use of sleep.
Going to church
Would involve a flight of stairs
To a familiar bedroom,
Where a broken alarm clock told the time.
The spreading of sheets,
The turning down of blankets,
Would be followed by the drawing of curtains in broad daylight,
The ritual of undressing.
Members of my religion
Would be encouraged to sleep in
On Monday mornings
And any other morning they felt like it, with no questions asked.
Sleep notes would be provided.
Couples would be authorised
To pull the covers over their heads
And spend their days tucked up
In cosy confessionals,
Where all their sins would be forgiven.
Hugo Williams, West End Final London: Faber & Faber, 2009. The publisher’s blurb describes this collection as a set of “sardonic investigations into the fault line between voice and projection”, if that’s any help.