Progress Being Made Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

To not,
Feel or become dismayed...
By all that seems,
Created to betray kept beliefs.
Of a higher deity.
All knowing. All seeing
All this and that and a bag of chips.
And...
So powerful that can and will heal,
What attracts with appeal...
Those who inflict conflict.
As if the doing of this,
For them is enjoyed.
Let not one...
Believer on knees praying,
Welcome malaise.
Or the feeling of indifference,
These unsettling days.
To not,
Begin to crave the taste for discouragement.
To not,
Give up faith.
To know,
There is a much higher authority at work.

With a doing to reveal,
All that appears to be chaos.
So vivid to make anyone living it livid.
Has a purpose.
To introduce another phase of life.
Far more functional to appreciate.
That apparently is still in the state,
Of being in a work of progress.
And...
Obviously,
Going through adjustments.
The kind of adjustments,
Those awakening with a higher conscious...
Anticipate.
With eyes, fingers, knees and arms crossed,
Holding on.
To the last remnants of faith.
Hoping the doing,
Keeps them from raging into a mental fit.

However...
Ignorance to tolerate through the process,
Of the intended progress being made...
Has become increasingly difficult.
For anyone to find the humor in it.
Or the patience to faithfully keep it,
Calm, cool and collected.
Without committing,
One or two forgivable sins!