You went to church to seek God and found
a tempting hell, pulling your mind to unholy places
except the altar where his only son lives crucified.
An aching heart goes where others kneel to wail.
Inside the holy place, pain sees perfection of others,
the heart aches to see more, deeper, beyond shuffling
of sacred pages, riddled with the language of divinity.
They meant well to quote known and new wisdom.
Don’t be strong when the mountain is crushing you.
Collapse, breath out, shout and howl long, because
only when weak pray you see where strength dwells.
Life is not hell but where evil makes a stopover.
You have not found God in the places you sought.
You will not find God in the places you were taught.
You will find God in the places you refrain — you.
You will rise again as dust from the miserable mat.
Most will only see the soil hiding your testaments.
You are still breathing so start blowing hard.
Blow. Blow again until your legacy is sanctified.
First published on Lit Up