By: Michelle Nnanyelugo
when I think about God
I picture his love for me in parenthesis
(a passover meal of burnt beans)
/ mashed into a fillet of leftover alms /
beseeching my starving soul for a revival
like pretence, our conversations taste bitter
except for the morning, my sister yelled at God
chronicled my agony into a bowl of tears
/ lavish offering /
this mourning: a tingling wake-up call
/ at ungodly hours /
I hatch my supplications into an ark
a drawing book where I sketch a memorial of platitudes –
/ fine art /
a patina of prayer requests
for an immersive solo exhibition at God’s courtyard:
/ a gallery of mockery /
my affliction is trapped in God’s armpit
/ me /
/ a wilderness /
genuflect for deliverance under a pulpit
buckle my soul into prophecy
professing my sermon note
/ hoping God talks to me /
yet he never does
on this canvas, I contour my problems onto a talking stage
brew a foretaste of this testimony
acclaim this wait; an alleluia
/ but God is the genesis of my lamentations /
he puts asunder
/ in our listening party /
so, I abide on urgent commentary – solemn, riddled monologues
because he is forgetful
the love he has for me is in past tense
/ shrunken /
a heartfelt persecution cleft for my penance
in this vigil, I crumble
swoon my posture into a prayer pod –
/ contrite vessel /
wiggle my petitions with trembling lips
a bouquet of unknown tongues brimming
/ me and 11 others /
dazzle our altars with amplified groans
in fervour
summoning my problems before God
/ asking heaven to help me /
today, I would bleed on paper
swindle this body into a fake smile
haunt memories I have long forgotten
paddle this anguish into abyss
and rapture this guilt unto judgement
/ God is slow /
or maybe he’s taking his time
and now,
/ for this finale/
I exodus this longing to a pilgrimage
/ me /
/ prodigal /
pronounce this worship
/ a plague /
with no words left
in this medley of
/ frequently asked questions /
I surrender this relic befitting for repentance
knowing I have been utterly forsaken
(for my trespasses)
Photo by Diana Vargas on Unsplash
Michelle Nnanyelugo hardly has time to breathe and sits in a room big enough to drown her worries; daydreaming and smiling. You can find her on her website: dialoguedistrict.com. She is mtch_elle on X and mtch_elle on Instagram.
