A Poem Of Faith In God's Mysterious Ways

you are fed up
you want to do something
but you cannot

the problem has defined itself
in numbers, in letters,

you feel like a mole on a cheek
a small indistinct island in the pacific

in the middle of an ocean
a single celled amoeba
swimming across the great mucus
of a corrupted civilization

can there be another David for
another Goliath in my story?

Avatars' bows and arrows against
the missiles and rockets of my film
about manipulation and oppression?

a speck of dust against profuse light
an atom invisible to those giant eyes

God has His own ways to correct
these crooked lines,
I am fatalistic, i cling to the vine
of his miracles,
and at the end of this misery
i, shall, a flower be
caressed by the hands of time
of the rays of the
gentlest
sun.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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