In Search Of God - Poem by Kevin Carney
I went in search of a word from God.
All I found was a black Sunday…
Darkness all around, the people cried.
There were no tears of joy today.
The false prophets at their best…
Stood so bold and shouted words of doom…
The pulpit their domain…
Gloom and doom all they could foresee.
Are they true to saving souls?
Well fed, and groomed, they prove they are not like the common man.
Smooth the talk; the collections are in their thoughts.
The large edifices built not for God, but for them.
They look at their flock, the rich ones so favored.
It’s all expounded the stories of fire and brimstone that they have preached.
Glory in the highest; it all be told.
Pack them in on Sunday; preach them to a feverish pitch…
Where is the word of God on this Sabbath day?
Speaking loudly, the words sound so righteous.
The words of God they speak of, they manipulate.
The glory, they speak of, twisted in greed and self importance.
Somehow they have lost their way…
It’s all about a numbers game.
They went wrong somewhere, although they would swear they were once sincere.
Whatever happened to the meaning of true prayer?
I went in search of the mercy of God…
It took me away, so far.
A refugee camp in a dark place called...Darfur..….
Most would say the next step is hell.
Never a place of such human suffering.
The stench, the dust, the disease, there is no shortage of death.
The young and old, waiting for death to call and take them away…
The civil war, drought and the famine, a breeding ground of tired souls.
Young man of medicine, so tired and worn…
Not much for him to believe in, he has seen too much.
He has done his best to keep it all together.
The God he once believed, cannot be seen, he is shaken in his faith.
He looks into the sky, if only the rains will come.
So unsure to ask God to cleanse the land, the people might have a chance.
He hasn’t prayed in such a long while, yet he still wants to ask.
It’s not for him; he works himself to the point of despair…
If only the rain would come, and start to wash away the pain.
Life could start to heal; the children will start to grow again.
It won’t be a quick fix, he is so aware of this.
It will start to ease the suffering, it will renew hope.
No medicine can heal this situation, the science he believed, slightly holds back death.
So exhausted, so frustrated, he feels he has failed the desperate souls…
Out of his own desperation, he kneels and prays, his science tells him it useless…
He humbles himself before the God, he thought he lost; it’s been too many years.
So strange he feels, he is touched by something…
I don’t think he could ever explain it, feeling deep inside: a feeling that he thought was lost.
He looked up to the heavens, hoping his prayers are heard.
He hoped above all, for the mercy of God and then the rains came.
Comments about In Search Of God by Kevin Carney
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You