This poem was written in response to the above picture prompt from an online poetry class.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sometimes He loads in pixels, a grainy salvation~ buffering between commandments, Wi-Fi faith flickering in the dead zones of my doubt. No monthly subscription, but the downloads are heavy~ whole lifetimes buffering while the algorithm of grace recommends another parable, another plague. You can’t skip the ads: forty years in the desert is unskippable suffering, but the next episode might be manna. No parental controls~ And though His servers never crash, the app sometimes freezes when you pray. No customer service number, just the swirl of a silent, omnipotent sky.
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