Sometimes I yell at the sky

Sometimes I yell at the sky
Not for spectacle
Not for witnesses
Only because silence
Also accumulates pressure
I know He hears
The issue was never distance

It was always the weight
Of carrying consciousness
Inside a collapsing routine
The world doesn't break dramatically
It erodes by repetition
And I, made in His image
Sometimes confront the original
To understand the reflection

Sometimes I yell at the sky
To test the density of the silence
If faith is steel
Friction is how it learns endurance
Sometimes I yell at the sky
And still kneel afterwards
Because dead faith stays quiet
Living faith breathes loudly

I no longer ask for signs in the clouds
Miracles became overrated
Once I learned the discipline
Of surviving ordinary days
What hurts most
Isn't pain
It's the delay
Between promise and calendar

Some people call that doubt
I call it conversation
God never asked for my numbness
Only my persistence
And heaven was never a machine
Built for immediate answers

Sometimes I yell at the sky
Without shame following behind me
If awareness was given to me
Then questioning is part of the design
Sometimes I yell at the sky
And the echo returns altered
Not louder
Deeper
Like something eternal
Learning my name slowly

Maybe heaven stays silent
Because silence is also language
Maybe unanswered nights
Are not absence
Only construction happening underground
Maybe faith was never meant
To remove the weight of existence
Only to stop it
From crushing the soul

Sometimes I yell at the sky
Not to break my faith
But to prove
It still has lungs
And maybe God prefers
Honest storms
Over decorative devotion