Where is my joy?

In the realm of religiousity
Sit the demons of vanity and rote.
The uncompromising “I am” of “I do”,
The result of a placing. When invited
To join, there is no hesitation,
Only cultural affectations. A hat here,
A shawl there, circumcision & diet,
Our guardian angels.
They are calling me to step out,
Yet I fear to step in.

No longer can I play,
Surrounded by my own terror.
In the anguish surrounding me
and my soul, I huddle, afraid.
So much to atone for. How do
I find my joy?