God
I’m disappointed
But that doesnt mean
Ungrateful
When the anger
Casts its shadow
Over miracles
You made known

Through quiet
Introspection
Like light between
These phases
Of clouds which
Cover heavens
Hanging low
Above our heads

As angels
In our midst
Both big and small
With halos
Bear crosses
Barely witnessed
Carried daily
On their backs

Never
Asking why
But marching forth
Regardless
To claim how
Simple worship
Is often
Feeling pain

Aware
Such healing hurts
And believing
Every action
Is weight
To counterbalance
What evil lifts
Deceived

Forgetting
Feathers drift
And fail to keep us
Grounded
Where bricks
And other burdens
Allow our hearts
To see

Acknowledging
Each deed
Or stone
Applied as pressure
Moves one side
Toward greatness
To measure
Lessons learned

Convincing
Secret saints
Who suffer lives
So simple
Their scars don’t go
Unnoticed
But rather
Tip that scale.

– J. Pigno