To Whom This May Concern:

Perhaps there is sound reason for our slow motion,
lost in translation in the curves of our rotation.
I missed the best part when I bowed over in frustration
and we lost ourselves in the colors of our infatuation.

Please push me a little further;
if you’re real God, I need you here.
Remind me that when we’ve reached the bottom,
it’s only fear that we should fear.

I suppose there is a plan to perpetuate
the innocence of our father’s faith.
Well, I’m begging and pleading for one unlikely sign
to prove the merit of waiting alone in this line.

Please grant me a little patience;
if you’re true, God, I need your hand
to help me build the courage to bridge my apprehension.

There is no mystery in my struggle to find
a definitive answer in the pages bound to your follower’s hands,
but the crisp autumn breeze and a canine’s pure loyalty
speak truth more coherently than any book can.
If it’s fact that there are more stars in the universe
than grains of sand on this earth,
it’s despairing that as small as our problem’s are,
we still manage to put ourselves first.
But our equations are consistently lacking one variable
that instinctively guides our feet away from catastrophe.
If your presence is intrinsic to this, God, please
level with me, and I’ll be honest when I say:
despite my tendency to question your possibility
I’ll keep my eyes open in probability.

Just please be fair with me, I need the atheist to rest in peace.