why the hunger and the thirst,
why the war and death and grief?
why the sickness with no cure
and the pain with no relief?

why the child without a home
and the outcast with no friend?
why the family without hope
and the suffering without end?

why the questions without answers
and the life that ends too soon?
what’s the purpose for this madness
God, dare i question you?

when will you enter in?
will you ever intervene?
can’t you simply lift your hand
to end this suffering?

and yet, you turn to me
a question for my ears…
do i not realize
i can answer my own prayers?

can i not lift my hands
to heal the hurt i see?
can i not enter in,
can i not intervene?

you suffered on the cross
and bore our every pain
then gave to us the work
told us go do the same

and i’m beginning now to see
that the answer lies with me
the things i’ve left undone
the pain that i’ve refused to see

the cries that i’ve ignored
the lives that i’ve betrayed
by turning from their eyes
choosing numbness over pain

how can i question God?
how can i complain?
i cast on him the blame
when it is i who bear the shame

 

poem copyright Jenna Fernandez