God is not in the details
Or anywhere
At least not that god
Or gods or any of the
Multitude of gods
God, I am sick of gods
And all the horrors done
In the name of some god
History is corpses of
Those slain by the righteous
In any gods’ name
History is the terror
Of the holier than thou
Riding down the innocent
And yet
I sit quietly in the morning
For a bit of time
Trying to find
Just a bit of compassion
Flowing through something
Into something
What I might call the universe
Or the all-encompassing consciousness
I am a mess
Of contradictions
Of wanting and resisting
Of turning away and turning to
So I sit, quietly
Each morning
Hoping for just a bit
Of all-encompassing hope
PWS 2022.06.27
Six Notebooks 