The Storm

I enter.

My mom starts talking about
how great and good God is,
the way that tree fell.

I feel such a surge
of hatred, anger and maybe
even a little bitterness.

But I choke back my words,
and say nothing at all because
I don’t want to hurt her.

I exit.

I have come to feel
that everyone is entitled
to their beliefs.

I just wish they would
stop shoving them down,
my throat, smothering me.

Is it too much to ask
that you respect my right
to believe as I wish???

I am doing that for you,
though your unquestioning,
sheep-like behavior wounds me.

When will humanity evolve
past the need to define God
and simply accept things as they are?

When will they let go
of the old, the outdated,
beliefs of others, long dead?

Will they ever learn
to define God for themselves
and respect each person’s experience?

The wind rages, trees fall,
limbs are blown across the lawn,
reflecting the storm within my soul.

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