Dave Bonta's "Devotee" reads like a tiny prayer that turns itself inside out. The speaker begins with a mind crowded with wanting, but instead of treating that as a flaw, calls it "holy with play." Desire here isn't shameful. It's closer to a game that happens to be sacred.
The second stanza gets more restless. The eyes "want to go out," as if they're straining toward the world, and the speaker's doubt "mutinies," overthrowing whatever kept it in charge. Doubt doesn't win, though; it's the thing being toppled. By the end, the speaker says "amen" like someone sealing a prayer, then claims to "own the treasury." The idea seems to be that once doubt gives way, the speaker has access to everything valuable.
The mood is playful, bold and a little cheeky. It borrows the language of religion but uses it to celebrate appetite, curiosity and confidence rather than obedience.