A Still Small Voice
A poem by Samuel Wu
The service has already started when
God sits down, next to me. Well, well,
well, out of all the churches in the world…
He doesn’t find it funny. Doesn’t say
a word, just sits down and stares ahead.
That’s fine – two can play this game –
It’s not hard to stare at the man in the
loincloth on the wall. Pain, pleasure,
the difference is lost on those who endure it.
My mind sins and my impulses put
Eve’s to shame. The hunger in my eyes
never knows when to stop. I reach for fruit
beyond my grasp. God, I never asked why
you never stopped me from taking it, partly
to keep your hands clean. You welcome me
back, but you will smile no more. Oh, that
my evenings could once again be filled with
walks with the god that calls for my removal!
You know I believed you? Not in you,
– it really doesn’t matter who you are –
But I believed you
You said jump – the faithful asked how high
before saying no – but I jumped,
And my feet fell through the top of the water and
my soles were on fire, and even then, I jumped. I
jumped, and the hurricane took me up; rain abused
my face and tears became welcome, the eye watching,
never intervening. Cruelty is the eye watching, pain is
the silence that returns the disciples' plea.
I could write volumes on this moment of silence alone,
but you already have, and what does it mean for both of
us when you know I have no interest in reading it?
We always forget that the rainbow came after the flood
and was never meant to be beautiful, but to be the reminder
of a promise. That true love lays at the end, where the stone
wall becomes a well, a stop for the faithful weary. Children
take their wooden closets, now turned transparent, and proudly
call them the trophy case for love.
What do I do with all this faith? Do not tell me to try again, that
I almost had it right, because I could not love you in every
universe when I do not love you the way I should in this one.
If you care for this type of stuff, I can still find
solace in the hollowness of my faith,
I can still believe.
God, if you are listening, remind me to do my laundry.
