I thought I saw an atheist, once, walking down the street.
I checked for horns, I checked for tail, I checked for cloven feet;
Began to tremble frightfully—my heart was in my throat—
Then sighed in happy recognition, for ‘twas but a goat.

I thought I saw an atheist, down near a swollen stream
With scaly skin, and blood so cold, I couldn’t breathe to scream!
I looked into his bulging eyes, and prayed “God, grant my wish”
Then laughed in my embarrassment—it only was a fish.

I thought I saw an atheist, with fur and pointed claws,
And wicked teeth for chewing up Judeo-Christian laws,
I ran, and tripped, and fell to earth, then hid behind a log—
It caught me, though, and licked my face—of course, it was a dog.

I thought I saw an atheist, though cleverly disguised
Not giant and reptilian, but human, normal sized,
It looked to be engaging in productive, useful labor;
But no, this was no atheist—this person was my neighbor!

I thought I saw an atheist; in fact, I saw a few!
My neighbor, and the grocer, and the cop, and maybe you!
I even found some in the church, right there beneath the steeple;
It turns out, to my great surprise… that atheists are people.

A few comments after the jump:

Over at Camels With Hammers, Daniel Fincke has a really nice piece up on the need for atheist solidarity and activism. This paragraph is what prompted me to dig into my vaults:

Atheists are people too. We are often alienated institutionally from the religious founts of community, discussion of ethics and meaning, spiritual practices, etc. We deserve a chance to think and meet and debate in common and, specifically, as atheists work out together our views on these sorts of issues the same way religious people get to do but without all that faith-based baggage. There are important parts of our lives we deserve to develop and to help each other with.

Of course, the whole thing is must-read blogging.