My God was dead

Sworup Shakya
Aug 26, 2017 · 2 min read

My God was dead!
I buried what remained in the backyard of the world that I called home
was built by my hands but guided as my God’s own.
I never was someone who worshiped
so maybe I was the one who killed my God,
but I had heard from those who worshiped before me,
that Gods, all mighty but benevolent, they resurrect.
Heard their hearts are too soft but magnificent,
and their love burn so bright,
that they melt away even death.
So I made a shallow grave….
as I sat there waiting…
for a resurrection.

Flowers bloomed and the yard turned green,
but I was not happy…
as I waited.
Unattended the yard turned brown and desolate…
setting up a perfect miniature state of my soul
…as I waited still.

The sun burnt away my skin, wind drew lines upon my face,
the autumn breeze left me rooted on my spot,
Leaves sprout and they fell
covered my God’s grave,
I collected them all, set them aside
….as I waited.

Rain was the worst, it gave me hope where there was none,
it reminded me how I felt loved
in the rain, in my God’s presence,
and every time rain fell on the shallow grave,
the ground felt like it moved,
I knew it didn’t and I just wanted to see it move,
but yet I sat there,
drenched in rain mixed with my tears and emotions,
hopeful of a resurrection.

I talked to my God but got no reply,
I shouted and got angry but got no reaction,
then I apologized but got no forgiveness.
However I kept faith… it was all I had left, faith,
…and I waited.

And then one day,
I dragged my broken self out of the desolate yard,
pass the broken down house in dire need of a fix,
and onto the street that went anywhere and everywhere,
and there I saw,
my God, in all of the grace, glory and magnificence that I remembered… and more.
Smiling and shining with promises of happiness and forever.
My God had resurrected…..
but somewhere else,
my God had been shining throughout my wait,
but on someone else.

Sworup Shakya

Articles of writings by Sworup Shakya.

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Written by

I am a web developer from Nepal who has love for everything art.

Articles of writings by Sworup Shakya.

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