If God Is, Was, Were . . . Dead. . . (contest the Death of God – 21st Century variations)
As I walk black sandy beaches
with a glorious sun’s rays
toasting my skin golden
and warming the crown of my head
As I stop to ponder
waves tranquilly encase my ankles…
Then I need to retreat
as a circle drops on the horizon
dripping orange and red.
As I walk back
instead
because of night’s coolness
I meet a stranger in dread.
His eyes dark and menacing.
In his hand a weapon.
Away I was led…
He spoke of his family
mean-spirited and cruel.
About his brothers and sisters,
how they hated structure and rules.
His spoke of his mother
and her lack of love for their growing
familial crew… Called her ‘a fool’…
He once wondered about his Father…
Said he didn’t exist…
For where was he in his hunger,
his bleakness in life…
‘Help’ he did not see him enlist…
As I walked beside him
thinking what could I say
especially after I had enjoyed
up until this moment
this wondrous day…
I thought for a second
then began to earnestly pray…
For I did not seek a Father
as news daily headed my way
about violence and crime
and how others murderers did slay…
I thought about my children
at sleep and play… about my wife
and how joyously we did lay…
I thought about ‘words’ ancient
that I ‘knew’
and what they now had to say:
“But know this,
that in the last days
critical times hard to deal with will be here.
For men will be lovers of themselves,
lovers of money,
boastful,
haughty,
blasphemers,
disobedient to parents,
unthankful,
disloyal,
having no natural affection,
not open to any agreement,
slanderers,
without self-control,
fierce,
without love of goodness,
betrayers,
headstrong,
puffed up with pride,
lovers of pleasures rather than lovers of God,
having an appearance of godliness
but proving false to its power;
and from these
turn away.” 2 Tim. 3:1-5.
… Did you hear me? he was asking.
I’m sorry! I answered hurriedly…
He angered
by my delay. Yanking my arm forcefully. Pushing
me down onto my knees
as the tide rolled in
soaking my pants… I began to plead…
With my hands upon my thighs
I began to cry… Why are you doing this? Do you need
money?… I can get you more money…
Shut up! he shouted… Today you will die.
I raised my eyes to search his face…
Flashes of my life raced before me
as he promised further days to erase…
Then suddenly he began to run as officers
gave chase–
I laid down in the sand
relieved and wept…
I remembered someone
that many taught me to replace
with success that only money could buy…
I promised to ‘seek’ him more readily now
face-to-face,
for once he ‘felt’ dead to me
like that stranger’s father to ‘he’…
But we know that man had a father
who birthed him…
Just in his own heart and head
about ‘him’
was an empty space…Write a poem for contest the Death of God – 21st Century variations – SmilingStocks
Can We Really Find God?
https://www.jw.org/en/library/magazines/wp20151001/how-to-find-god/ © 2 minutes ago, Lucretia McCloud hope • love • rhyme • sad • society • teen
ITH & SB 