A Rough and Unfinished Journey to Faith

When I was a child

I prayed and prayed

for safety,

for warmth,

for change —

/

until I dropped all hope,

instead shouldering

a lifetime of shame,

believing that even God

would not intervene,

and that I deserved…

this.

/

As a teen

it was thus easier,

better, let’s say,

for my mental health

to be staunchly atheist —

/

to believe that

no one stopped the harm

because no deity witnessed with their eyes,

nor adults listened with their ears,

that no one was reliable,

other than myself.

/

In the healing journey,

I now realize,

that each bond

between a person and another

is different,

and that trust can be built,

one brick at a time;

that I can trust another.

/

Which also means that

between a person and their faith

can hold the same uniqueness and meaning.

While I have not regained trust in Him, nor Her,

nor Anyone Above quite yet,

this previously firmly closed door

now lays ajar,

open to possibilities.

***

If you like this poem, check out Tiny Poems from the Pandemic : Poetry Collection Of All The Moments In Between.