God is dead (and that’s ok)

By: Scarlet Anne Williams

His bones are in the ground
Buried beneath a rusted swing set
That creaks when the wind is still
In hopes that his divinity would leak into the dirt
And make the world a place worth walking on

I remember drinking from a river
and tasting remnants of ambrosia that still remained
So i told my priest and he gave me a sermon
on why we look down while praying to higher beings

“He is dead and decrepit,
a worthless thing that has left us to rot in the blood of his only child,
we are the lamb that stands before the rapture,
still as wind in the face of sacrifice.

And yet,
We pray. ”