Closing ears to noise that flirts,
Keeping thoughts close to home,
Wonder how old is the dirt
Upon which my bare feet roam?

Angels flash in the corner of my eye,
Bending near to listen.
Always hovering close by,
Makes my eyeballs glisten.

Do you know the secret behind
Why we’re here alone?
Why doesn’t God bend an ear,
Or call us on the phone?

Wretches all are his children,
Not a good one in the bunch!
Selfish, weak, prideful, rude.
Never missing lunch.

Why do we strive so hard
To make ends meet every month?
“Is the manna enough?”we wonder.
Never trusting once.

God provides, or so they say.
I’ll be the one to judge.
Or in the process of the day,
Perhaps I will not budge.

Stubborn, cruel, wrathful, sullen.
Always last to the church,
If I do make it at all,
Leaving God in the lurch.

Someday it will all make sense,
Someday I’ll have peace.
Maybe once I leave this earth,
He won’t seem such a tease.

This plank inside my bloodshot eye
Stabs and slices my veins.
Oh, to be a believer again!
Oh, to pull back the reins.

This journey will come to an end
One day when I’m having fun.
It will all be worth it, my friend.
You won’t have to run.


Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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