Fruit of the Muses

Reveal to me the God
I’m told I should believe in.
Show me the grace that
dignified my existence, the
reason I’m still breathing.
Redefine a faith lost,
trapped in the grasp of
my cynical heart.

Reveal to me the God
I thought I knew.
Show me the footpaths
He left to be followed
by the doubting, the
uncertain hearts that
strive to believe in something
worthwhile.

All the chisels I’ve dulled

carving a heart of stone

that has crumbled like

sand beneath the waves.

I recklessly built all my hopes

in the sand,

just to watch them wash away.

All the pennies I’ve wasted,

in my wishing well

settle hopelessly at the bottom.

I have dropped my guard

and reached out my weary hand

to be met with faith

and prayed it

be faithful to me.