Act of God

Askew, it’s shaken,
A rag-doll temple
A permanent popsicle-stick
house, with foundations of
mud-slides held together by
my own hands,
security oozing between my very fingers.
This will stay. I will build here.

Avalanche, earthquake, rainfall...cancer
Tornado, hurricane, temper-driven child

I’m still here.
I’m still small.
I’m still lost within
the wreckage of my faith-step,
the ruin of my “it’ll be ok.”
I tried to pretend
But I still am