Prompt: "What happens when logic fails?"

What happens when there is no tidy way to explain your emotions? No formula to simplify your feelings? 

When reason fails to reason with your faulty reasons, do you reason with God? Do you make demands of God, or gods, swearing why me why me why fucking me at the skies like a drunken fool- standing in the rain with no umbrella and shouting at heaven in the hopes that she will close her fists and stop pouring down pain? Do you scream at the man in the sky for the answers to a deluge of questions in a language you don't even speak?

                              Et maintenant, Dieu? 

When logic fails and you must face emotion, does your passion cripple you with the weight of a grand piano on the brittle bones of baby birds? Does your passion sing in tenors and sopranos across the cavities in your chest, echo rising to fill the space between the notes? Is it loud and angry and overcompensating? 

Or is your passion silent? Does it stream down your face and make home in your eyes and draw a blanket to its chin? Will this silent passion sit on your heart and bend your veins like strings of some cello rested between knees, pulling silent notes from a broken instrument? Do you bite back the scream that bubbles up your chest and threatens to swallow you if you don't swallow it? Has it been silent so long that it forgets words?

            When men cry out, do their tears speak a language that this God understands?

Perhaps when logic fails, faith sings a quiet song of we will try again tomorrow.