Season For God

This pollution in my body 
weakens my flesh 
each time I feed it. 

I try to starve it 
to remain upright 
but I fall again and again 
without the strength. 

I lean on my God, 
but sometimes, 
He lets me fall.

Sometimes I don’t know why 
and I surrender. 
Sometimes, I don’t know why 
and I hold on.

I kick and scream and cry 
sometimes, begging 
to be remade, 
reviled by the creature I am.

And when I let go and fall apart, 
sometimes, I hear a gentle voice 
say without a sound, 

“That’s it. 
Now I’ve got you.”

© 2024, S. Naify