The Heart of Existence

A gun misfires

That clangorous noise is so deafening

The soldiers of God stood in unison

Marching towards my hiding place

My mind is my refuge

Can God find me here?

Once upon a time,

I drowned ceremoniously in a baptismal pool

I sputtered…
As I floated back to the surface

“Yes, I believe, I believe…”

With one panicked wheeze, I stared through misted eyes

A jubilant congregation clapped

I’m confused..

Where is God?

  I dreamt of angels bespangling trees

Where are they?
This fleeting vision is trapped in the perimeters of my mind

Outside, I see nothing but my ordinary surroundings

A thought struck me…

Am I forsaken?
Or is God just me,

whispering through the isolation of my mind?

A gun was thrust into my hand

Some sergeant with stately clothes

Screamed hoarsely for me to shoot at the prisoner

A small, whimpering child

The enemy?

“Are you a man?”

Am I human?

“Its God commandment to kill this “thing,”
 He’s not one of us
The child was like me
Recoiling from the mad violence

As I stared despondently at the child,
I stoically pulled the trigger,
Hearing the child’s cries

Cut through the fabric of my being,

I died….
Was this God’s doing or man’s?
Where is God hiding?

I awakened after the holy war

We happily celebrated over the heathen corpses

Except me, I stared in horror

Did I do this?
Was I part of this?
God, Why oh Why??


Back in church,

I dreamt only of my death

Weighed down with stones in my pocket

Drowning, dying

In the pool of tears

Thinking…

Take me elsewhere…

Beyond here...

A meadow hidden within the shadows..

The pastor roared

“Those who fail to believe,

Die a second time.”

Flashes of the corpses of those innocent children
Tore through my mind…

Their bleeding bodies haphazardly

Stacked atop each other..

They were dead once,

And they’ll die again

Does God smile mutinously upon this

Dream of Mankind??

After church,

I miserably drowned myself with wine

Was it really his blood dulling the pain?

All of this sacrificial blood seeping through my veins

Mixing  with the blood of those I killed

Was it all just metaphoric?

Could Jesus really be there, somewhere?

Dying from our sins?

The morning sun illuminated my bleeding body

Lying against the dark wood floor

What did I do?

Did someone stab me?

The knife was laid next to me

Smeared with my blood

Dripping from my open heart

A Sunday school memory danced through my mind

“Children, do you know Jesus lives within our hearts?”
Did I kill him, or has he been let free?

I laughed at the thought of Jesus crawling out of my heart

Then standing over me with a sardonic expression..

I was always here…