BY JOHN GREY
Copyright is held by the author.
It rained for days.
Winds blew at hurricane force.
Roofs were blown off houses.
Roads turned into rivers.
Many drowned
or were hit by flying debris.
And yet we survived.
I have no idea why we were
among the lucky ones.
We weren’t more faithful
in our churchgoing that others.
We didn’t pray any harder
when the storm was at its worst.
We didn’t lead more charitable,
less sinful lives than those who died.
Maybe it wasn’t God sent
this weather our way
but sheer happenstance.
Its church is the everyday life.
Prayers to it
mean going about your business.
All it asks as charity
is that we not be where
the bad stuff happens.
For that’s a sin
in happenstance’s eyes.
***
John Grey is an Australian poet, U.S. resident, recently published in New World Writing, North Dakota Quarterly and Tenth Muse. Latest books, Between Two Fires, Covert and Memory Outside The Head are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Haight-Ashbury Literary Journal, Birmingham Arts Journal, La Presa and Shot Glass Journal.