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June 22, 2021

Dear God: are you Only a Voyeur? {Poem} 

Photo by T on Pexels.

Someone once told me, “I will pay for everything I didn’t do at any given opportunity.”

Today, I think I finally understand what they meant. I grew up as a Daddy’s girl, but he gradually started hiding away. This kind man who moulded me had disappeared into the shadow of his doubts. I could see him for what he had become: exhausted by possibilities.

I wasn’t like him.

I told myself that things would be different for me. And when my fears took reign, I was already in the void of addictions. An addiction to the unknown—wanting, only, to look ahead. The truth is I am no different. It wasn’t a superiority complex that I was chasing. I didn’t want to feel mighty great or better than the others.

 A year into the pandemic I found solace in everything uncomfortable. One of those days, Daddy called me up to apologise, not for his words, but rather for how his chaos descended into the mind without control.

On the line, connected yet far away, he was breathing guilt and grieving for his actions. It was true we were both the same, no matter how much I ignored it. And I would never disregard it again.

Waking up, I realised this life is like a time bomb ticking both fast and slow. I recognised the web of my lies that tangled the mind. I was honest with other people, but was I honest with myself?

Are there others who also don’t understand themselves fully?

If you are struggling like I am to master the feelings about the molecular dimensions of life, then that’s a relief. Dwelling in the light of one’s darkness isn’t a crime—it’s a blessing. Most of us have already died a little on the inside. Instead of only talking about the joys, we discover our sorrows. Our career, finances, spirituality, sexuality, psychological state of mind, and whatever else is on the table, are all connected through the intricacies of our soul.

I have an enduring relationship with God, but it’s an open state of affairs.

In the past decade, I’ve been finding solace in different forms of spiritual paths and practises, floating through them like a lotus only absorbing what I liked. These days I prefer to mix spirituality and realism with the higher power, asking about their favourite DIYs to convert water into wine at home.

Pagan or not, I still smile in gratitude—even amidst ridicule!

Dear God/Higher Power, 

Are you only a voyeur?

Here to see my lips always say your name in vain.

A little bird lost in the sanctuary of life.

Blank stares and not-so-blank thoughts.

I sit staring at the present.

A present I seem to fully appreciate—and the future?

No words of advice.

Do you like what you see?

Will I get a way to the gates of your good place?

No words of remorse.

I don’t want to live in your world of idealism.

Do I even care to live the future?

No words of motivation.

A future for what? My greed and radicalism?

All I can do is whistle to the tune of my own desires.

Sitting in silence and disappearing from the chaos of my own vanity.

Away from the shadows that wouldn’t let me go.

Today, I smile and breathe into my joys.

After all, I am just one of them.

Do I really care if that doesn’t stand to benefit me?

And what are you doing these days?

Other than waiting for another Ovid, Aspasia, or Martin Luther?

Can TikTok, LinkedIn, or Instagram emerge as the next Shakespearian tragedy?

Passion, joys, and weaknesses are the only medals of honour I pride myself on.

Dancing with other throbbing hearts like it was Mardi Gras every day.

We are just living through another version of Sodom & Gomorrah.

I may not kneel before you for all the right reasons.

Yet, I care enough.

What about you?

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