It's Still Life

What Are the Chances

What were the chances
that I’d survive bitterness,
outlast my misspent childhood.
What chance was there
that I’d find space to dry my wings,
to fly before I learned to accept
life’s slips and pits and stumbles,
and eventual fall.

And lately I pray
for belief in God’s goodness —
that wrongs will turn right.
I’m too easily led toward those
avenging angels and cruel gods.
Where did the goodness and light go…
and what are the chances
that I can survive with my doubts.

written for Miz Quickly’s “Roll the Dice“