#15 – G-d

To you, O shade
O mysterious one who has crafted this illusory experience of faith around my head like the thick, grey cloud that forewarns a storm.
I take steps blindly,
but scrambling to clear the fog from in front of my face
and this makes me so off-balance it’s a wonder I do not falter more often.
May I ask you, O nameless, faceless one,
how long have I been walking in circles?
With my feet turned inward,
untrusting in their movements, without purpose or direction.

Do you intentionally darken my way?
Is this mystery really only a curtain that leaves me, the audience, unaware of the change of prop and scene?
Will the curtain be drawn readily?
Or am I in intermission and the lights have not yet been unmade dim?
I feel as though you, the director of the play, have not been upfront about the subject of the play and I am confused at the spectacle before my eyes.
For you sit in the high chair in the back of the stage where I cannot see you, hear you, nor reach you, and I do not know why I continue to stay.
But wait,
you signal slyly
with the the lights flickering
telling me, the audience, to take my seat again
For the curtains will draw,
and it will only take a few lines or so for everything to be made clear.

In the least, this is how I trust you.
For in your mind,
and as best you were able to translate those high thoughts into your script,
you have a plan that will be exposed under spotlights for all to see.
Particularly me, that is, if I indeed want to see, and have been given eyes that see.

O specter,
O deep darkness who exists in unlit places,
may you allow me the eyes I so strongly desire, even when I won’t admit it.
This is very hard.
For who am I to depend on?
save you,
O ghoul.

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