Faith moves mountains,
They say.
Faith moved me
To be a disbeliever.
Don’t get me wrong.
I wish I could kneel
And look up and say,
I know you have my back;
I could say,
Oh, you know best;
There will be something better,
That there is
A larger plan.
But my children died.
And all I asked was for less suffering.
A little lesser than the last.
Until with the last there was nothing left.
I asked when I believed.
Now I know the blankness.
And the silence.
I’ve seen religion and ritual
Twist me into softness:
Into believing there is law,
There will be justice.
But
There isn’t.
There is silence and sacrifice.
So I choose to turn away
From a fait accompli.
I’m uncertain.
That makes me stronger.
Less kinder.
But if I have given up on
Divinity
Being kind is an anticlimax.
Hearts Still Care 