Dear God, do You listen or would You rather say
This may be put up another day?
Does the clamour below ever upset Your plans,
Or do You turn away without a glance?
Can it be possible that You are deaf,
Heedless therefore of such stuff?
I wonder how You function up there on high,
Watching earthlings crawling by?
Do You have a department for disaster management,
Or a budget of goodwill to be spent?
Is it a simple system of waiting in a queue
I’m next; so where are You?
Every priest claims You, ochre, black or white,
And sinks unfailing into night;
Frighten souls to their path for reaching grace,
Or threaten time in the other place;
Teaching religion while excluding life,
Dealing out sanctity in lies.
You have a form, You have not, they say,
Yet each has a form to pray:
Your application to God must be just so
Or He won’t hear, you know;
Fold your hands, face this way or that,
Bend your knees-God’s dictat?
We shout our prayers at You all day
Anxious not to miss our say.
The neighbour prays to reach You first,
My way is better; greater my thirst.
I wonder why this clamour world-wide
Leaves a parched desert inside?
Dear God, why do we cover You with words,
When in silence you are heard?
If I bent no knees, lit no lamp or candle,
You’d find the way to my temple.
Your Grace is linked to my actions, I’m told;
Can dross cover this gold?
So often have I felt You near,
Yet undeserving, I fear.
I cannot see You with the lights so stark,
I’ve known You in the dark.
I had no offerings Your heart to move;
So I offered all my love.