Forgive me Father for I have sinned.
I have questioned You and Your mysterious ways—
as though someone invisible should be
enigmatic as well to prove a point.
Where does grace land when it spills
between cracks of generational sins
and the follies of the innocent?
They say Samson slew a thousand men
with the jawbone of an ass.
My asinine jaws haven't killed so many,
but perhaps my hair is too short
and my eyes too intact.
How many temptations must I consume
before a temple is brought down
by the strength of my own tired arms?