How do you not have a god

that you disagree with?

You're telling me you don't argue with him?

You don't knock and knock and demand

to understand 

the discrepancy

of this tragic life?


How do you not have a god

that you can wrestle with?

I meet Him on the mat so often,

It is my sanctuary

The altar where we emerge

both bloody from our duel

living, writhing sacrifices.


Your god doesn't have scars from you?

You don't have a limp from Him?

You call Him holy,

other,

unique,

and yet there is no difference

Between your opinions and His

Are you sure your god isn't just yourself?


You talk about fear of the Lord

But there is no fear like facing the vastness

between His doings and our desires

And plunging straight in.

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