Thomas

I heed the doctrine of God the Remote.
Daily you withhold your many blessings
shower us in silence, keep us guessing
confound us with those words you never wrote.

Bathe us in light from your indifference.
Toss us an idol who shouldered the blame
molded in plastic, a symbol of shame.
Never manifest to walk among us.

Have you forgiveness for the faithless?
I offer my brothers an unclenched fist
never betrayed with a fingering kiss.
Is blind belief the virtue you most bless?

I cannot condone what the others are touting,
that’s how it is when your first name is Doubting.