God waits
Beyond me now
In a place
I fear
Is imagined

From the minds
Of men more fortunate
To believe
That heaven
Exists

As faith
Doesn’t always stick
When pain
Insists
We are ready

For truths
Which assume
Our courage
Endures what death
May entail

Since feeling
Proves it all
Wrong
While revealing
Logic tattles

On fables passed
Like assurance
Such gospels
Preach
Without sense

Though reason
Often fails
Among numbers
Lacking
Their patterns

Varying
Ever so quickly
If examined
Now
Under prayer –

Despite how sin
Can claim
This uncertainty
Killing me
Daily

I suspect
Some sane
Realizations
Are divinity
Shrouded by hurt.

– J. Pigno