Is God Asleep
I choke on soot, my homeland shudders;
“Is God asleep?” the prophet mutters.
With fire on my tongue, how brave can I be?
Braver than ships exploring the sea?
Mine are the questions that no one answers;
At half past midnight, I join the dancers.
With reverence and gratitude I pause—
The white wolf takes me gently in his jaws.
More The Whirligig #270
More Writers’ Pantry #24 at Poets and Storytellers United
Posted on June 14, 2020, in couplets, Poets & Storytellers United, Rhyming poetry, The Whirligig and tagged brave, choke, fire, homeland, mine, muttered, pause, reverence, ships, shudders, soot, tongue. Bookmark the permalink. 21 Comments.