The Eternal Question: God, No God, Maybe God
Growing up in a loving family of seven—
church on Sundays,
bare feet running wild,
sharing a tricycle with three—
double the fun, one standing behind the seat.
Dreaming of white dresses and Prince Charming,
following my dreams,
praying in church
to a God so giving.
Marveling at trees, sunrises, sunsets,
the deep blue sea—
His touch lingering in the beauty of life,
painting a picture so bright.
No doubt in my mind that God exists.
All the whistles and bells
laid at my feet—
a handsome young man,
blue eyes, dark hair,
took my hand in his and said,
“Be my wife.
Build a life side by side.”
Thanking the good Lord when we said, “I do.”
Years go by, and we look to Heaven,
grateful for two little miracles
running around our feet.
A full life, with its grief and joy,
but always the promise of forever—
God, ever-loving, giving us strength.
Until the day the nightmare began.
Shaking my fist at the big man in the sky,
another Earth angel called home—
to a Heaven I no longer believed in.
Dead trees, dull sunsets,
the deep sea filled with my tears.
No more miracles,
no more God,
no mankind I could trust.
No make-believe happy endings.
Grief so profound—
mourning my daughter, barely thirty.
Bitterness crept into my soul.
The world turned grey,
no colour left to see.
No longer praying.
Days turned to months—
still standing, somehow.
Dead inside since she went away.
Poetry became my lifeline,
the reason I’m still here.
The veil of darkness lifts—
just a bit.
The beauty of the Earth whispers again.
A newborn’s cry brings tears—
not of sorrow, but joy.
Memories of years with you return,
and maybe—just maybe—
a crack forms
in the wall I built.
Maybe there is a God.
I see His reflection staring back at me.
A gift:
another day to grieve,
to live,
to love—
and to humbly ask forgiveness
for ever doubting the Lord, my Saviour.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes—
His promise: everlasting.
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