My God
Face to face I sat and
My eyes red I frowned
Raised my voice in anger
“Hell with you! ” I told God.
Afterwards in the calm
Looked around in smile:
“You are an agnostic
There may be, may not be,
Physically; God, being.
Regardless, that poor thing,
Hears you, says nothing.
He listens when you shout.
In firmness he is rock.”
I called him many names
One of them was bastard
But still reprisal is nothing
I could feel no vengeance.
“Having him is great
Being weak, strong,
God is help, he is great.
You walk; talk, even shout.
In darkness there’s someone.
His being, medicine, soothes you.”
I, therefore, have my God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem