I'm Never Anywhere Anywhere I Go
Laying facedown in the dirt, I exhale a prayer:
Is it wrong to question God on my configuration?
I ask, standing or kneeling on this foundation of
bone. Rising to occasions I never sought, with
proof of divinity yet to be shown.
Would you laugh if I were to tell you that the
galaxy were made of milk? Or that faith is made
of cheese? Time weathers while burdens erode,
and it’s best to appreciate the sediment, for it builds
over time to your version of God, and it’s for the
best you better believe in it.
Otherwise you’ll find yourself laying in the dirt,
asking silly questions and thinking silly thoughts,
scrambling up to get the mud off of your jeans.
What a mad world this one must be.
Mad, mad indeed.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
