where was He then?

poem for mom

Sometimes, when the sun shines through my blinds at the perfect angle
And I hear the mourning dove sing on my windowsill
I yearn to reconnect with “god”.

I think about your useless partners, mother
About how you begged your god to stop your heart from hurting
For choosing ‘wrong’ and getting the short end of the stick
For raising a daughter you no longer see your image in, you no longer recognize
For following His rules so diligently
Only to end up
Alone

To love you, mom, for better or worse, through sickness and health
I ask where He was back then.

I think about the man who mocked your heritage
Your brown skin
The roots you were denied and ultimately buried.
And the other man who hurt your body
Who forcefully took something you weren’t ready to give.
I ask where He was then.

He’s never listened to my prayers.
And yet
Sometimes
At lonely hours of the evening, I will wish I still believed
For your sake, but
How can I when all I’ve seen is pain in your eyes?

You, mother, are my god.