Know
Know
If you don’t know God,
then you’re probably better off
Because re-entertaining the fact
(that) only have I known a
punishing God;
On my
knees so long the pews
have become splinters/
I bleed, I wane—
I exist inside
and outside my & self/
Learning about my & self.
My ‘Double Consciousness’
grower closer together/
My thoughts accompanying
some organs as oft-repeated
chants—
Anticipating a miracle
to explain the Genius of Life
or something that passes for it/
I beg. I pray—
“Lord, help me find a way
out this maze“—
Left here in the wake of fears
and hungry, then consuming fires/
I search stained windows
and chalices of wines
for composure;
Then a spiritual finger traces across
my lips—
“Keep waiting. Know he is coming.”
But how long do I wait?
Should I keep fasting and holding
steady/these hands shaped
as a bowl to be fed
with my soul?
Or do I close my eyes/
clasp my nervous hands together
and call this impatience
“Belief.”
