July 27, 2013


I do not know
Who I pray to anymore

I feel the need
To complain
And vent to
Or say thank you
To a higher being-
A God
But I don’t know his face anymore

He used to be the one
With the unconditional love
The kind I have
For my pets
And loved ones
Till I was told
His love has limitations
And there are things
He doesn’t forgive
And I don’t know what to believe

What God do I pray to?

The one who created hell
To condemn people
Who don’t agree with him

The one who sends typhoons
As punishment
On the evil
And the innocent
As well?

Who said its fine
To kill
And create holocausts
In his name

And who said its okay
To take slaves;
To beat a woman
And have her bow
To a man
Because she is inferior

I don’t know God’s face anymore

I used to hear his voice
And had begun molding him
A lovely gentle face
Akin to the earth’s magnificence
But now
All I hear is people’s voices
Telling me
Who he is
And painting to me
A picture so grotesque

I don’t want to know him

I wish he came out
And said

“This is who I am!”

Instead of letting people
Speak for him

And something tells me
This is possible
I should stop
Long enough
And listen
Forget these distorted versions
Of God

And listen for him

Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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