An Altar to Punch

An Altar to Punch

(“Don’t call me Naomi,” she responded. “Instead, call me Mara the Almighty has made life very bitter for me.’” Ruth 1:20)

Sometimes you need to find
a place to cry alone,
or at least a place where people
do not feel they must atone for the bitter taste
you bring to the gathering.

Sometimes you need those friends
who understand, who see,
that being sad, being angry can be
just as holy as a prayer.

Bitter is just the taste on the tongue when
what you thought would be right
seems to have gone so wrong;

And the Almighty, El Shaddai, is slow on the uptake.

Sometimes you need an altar that you can punch and grind
and rip and tear with no one worried that you ruined the carpeting.

Sometimes you need to tell the Almighty, to complain to
El Shaddai that
the chef seems to have overcooked the burnt offering.